


TONY²

by Nessaiya



Category: Iron Man (Movies), NCIS, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Abigail Sciuto Bashing, Awesome Jarvis (Iron Man movies), BAMF Jethro Gibbs, BAMF Pepper Potts, BAMF Phil Coulson, Competent Tony DiNozzo, Gen, Gibbs should run because Pepper's coming for him, Hurt Tony DiNozzo, Hurt Tony Stark, I don't know yet where this story is going, Jethro Gibbs Being an Asshole, Loki is clueless, M/M, Multi, Mutual Pining, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, T2, Tony Stark Is a Good Bro, Ziva and McGee bashing, sandbox friends Tony&Tony
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-08
Updated: 2018-09-06
Packaged: 2018-12-25 11:07:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 59,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12034623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nessaiya/pseuds/Nessaiya
Summary: Tony has known Tony for as long as he can think, their relationship starting as a tender friendship, established between two lonely boys in a boarding school, outlasting as an unbreakable bond well into adulthood. Both have been through a lot, and when life inevitably takes a dip into the unbearable again, one Tony is there for the other, unconditionally. It’s nothing they advertise, hell, sometimes, it is the only thing they have left that keeps them sane. Either Tony is comfortable with the other, yet, they are not so secretly pining for someone else, and they are aiming high – the one fell for his boss a long time ago (even though the bastard’s really working hard on breaking his heart), and the other has set his eyes (and his heart) on nothing less than a God. But Loki is damaged and the last thing he wants is a high-maintenance mortal, and Gibbs does not care anymore. At least that’s what they think…





	1. Life is really simple, but we insist on making it complicated (Confucius)

**Author's Note:**

> I’ve been reading too many NCIS fanfics lately – and I stopped watching the show pretty soon after Ziva appeared, so, actually, I don’t have any clue and my timeline is most probably beyond mixed up. Anyway, I’m still a major Iron Man fangirl, and, come on, hooking Tony up with Tony??? That’s hotness and awesomeness squared.

* * *

 

 

It was raining cats and dogs when Tony and Tony met for the very first time at the very first boarding school they were sent to, both of them more than aware that it was a means of their parents to outsource them and their education to a third party. Though, most probably, it was less to make sure they learned their manners and their Shakespeare, but to get them out of their parents’ hair.

Anthony DiNozzo Senior had been thrilled to bits that his son had befriended the Stark heir, weaseling his way into the good graces of the weapons manufacturer immediately. Howard Stark liked Senior’s contacts all over the world more than the man, not caring that some of them were dubious at best. He needed money, a very well-kept secret by the Stark Industries board members – but the search for his super soldier was expensive, and he for sure would not give it up.

Tony and Tony had a rather matter-of-fact view on their parents already at the very ripe age of 5. Howard Stark was a raging functional alcoholic already before he met Maria, but Isabella DiNozzo, née Paddington, gave him a run for his money even on a good day. Maria Stark was a society trophy wife trapped in a loveless marriage her parents had forced her into after she found out she was pregnant, and Anthony DiNozzo Senior had only had one good reason to marry his wife, pregnant or not: her family’s money.

Both children had been shy, not used to being around other kids, the Stark heir too intelligent for his own good and neglected, and the DiNozzo scion smart, but weary and distrustful of any other person thanks to various broken promises by his parents and his Dad’s con-man attire.

They bonded over robot pets that Tony Stark built to substitute a furry version none of them ever was allowed to have, and hilarious stories and movies Tony DiNozzo told and made his friend watch, respectively, and the weirdness of eidetic memory. They decided early on that they might be better off where they were instead of having to suffer the craziness of their parents at home.

By the age of 8, Tony DiNozzo had lost his alcoholic mother and the one trust fund Senior knew of to his rapscallion of a father. The Paddington side of his family started making preparations that this would not happen again, practically disowning the boy so his Dad could not get his greedy little fingers on their money. Tony Stark didn’t care for any of that as he comforted his friend, and organized for Jarvis to take them to the funeral, as DiNozzo Senior conveniently had “forgotten” to fetch his son.

By the age of 11, Tony Stark had skipped so many grades that he was starting High School, meaning that they would get separated rather sooner, than later. Anyway, Anthony DiNozzo Senior had fucked up really big this time, his former friend Howard ending up suing him for everything but his underpants for embezzlement, leaving him no other option than asking his late wife’s family for money to care for his son while wooing replacement-Mommy number three at the same time for some start-up resources.

The Paddingtons, surprisingly, paid for the Military School his father opted to send him to, and also did not ask about the additional fees Senior claimed, most probably knowing that the money never made it to his son.

Tony DiNozzo finished school on top of his class more or less at the same time that Tony Stark graduated from the MIT with God knows how many Master degrees and a PhD in engineering. He also was the one person holding a shell shocked Tony Stark during the funeral of both of his parents while dealing with the fact that his own father had disowned and more or less dropped him like a hot potato after finding out that he would be pursuing a sports career at the Ohio State University.

By the age of 21, Tony Stark had stepped up as CEO and powered through the task of leading the almost bankrupt company his father had left him back to the top of the Fortune Fifty. At the same time, Tony DiNozzo powered through one of the darkest hours in his life so far – his knee was broken, and his dreams of a career in either basketball or football were shattered.

It was not the first time that either Tony cried in the arms of the other. Though, it was the first time they kissed, confused at first of what this might imply, both of them struggling with their sexuality for a minute or two, before deciding that they would continue comforting the other by any means available – it proofed to be rather satisfying in the end, so why change it?

Tony Stark helped Tony DiNozzo figure out his plan for his further life, and after it was clear that his knee would heal and be as good as new, just not good enough for a sports career anymore, it was an easy decision to apply for the police academy and take up some criminology and psychology courses while his leg was healing.

Tony Stark learned a lot more about criminology and psychology in the next few years than he might ever care for, while Tony DiNozzo at some point thought that he might be able to build a Stark Industries sniper rifle from scratch without ever having touched one.

They made it through hiring the ~~BAMF~~ ~~temperamental~~ _lovely_ Miss Potts who, weirdly enough, firmly approved of their friendship as she took over ruling Tony Stark’s life. Obadiah Stane wanted nothing more than get rid of the DiNozzo kid and lost some spectacular pissing contests against the fiery redhead.

They made it through the “Wendy affair” and being left at the altar, both of them glad that all this change came at once. Tony DiNozzo was a Federal Agent now (with a secret crush on his boss that only his best friend knew about), and Tony Stark was leading a thriving company from the other end of the country. They did not see each other that often anymore, but it was still the most stable relationship in both of their lives.

Then, Afghanistan happened. Iron Man. The betrayal by Obadiah Stane. Followed by Palladium poisoning and the Plague. Kate’s death, the short and rather quietly failing stint at a relationship with the _lovely_ Miss Potts. Being framed for murder, Gibbs being blown up and losing his memories, Gibbs leaving and coming back, personal problems with team mates, and the unsanctioned undercover op. Jeanne. Jenny Shepard dying. The various Ziva fuck-ups. Not all of that necessarily in this exact order. Not to mention the broken heart over Gibbs’ abrasive behavior towards his senior field agent that made various insecurities rear their heads again.

“I feel like I have all of the problems, lately”, Tony DiNozzo complained when informing his best friend that he would be sent as Agent Afloat to the other end of the world. It was either that or being fired, and Tony did not even know why Leon Vance hated him that much.

Then the Battle of New York happened.

“Can we go back to you having all the problems, please? Those we can solve somehow. I wanna kick in Captain Spangles’ teeth every time he opens his mouth”, Tony Stark whined, noticing the dark shadows under his friend’s eyes. He was not made for boats… ships… whatever was moving on water.

“He is over 90, T, we don’t kick in the teeth of the elderly.”

“He thinks he can order me around simply because of the fact that he knew my father, Dino. I flirted with Loki yesterday during a hearing, and the Capsicle tried lecturing me how it was inappropriate to do that with a male war criminal. I guess a female war criminal would have been fine. I’m so thankful that you talked me out of offering all of them a floor in the tower.”

“I thought Loki was cleared of all accusations? Even Asgard exonerated him and admitted that he was under the influence of this Thanos guy.”

“Yeah. I might have spelled that out _again_ and _very slowly_ to our geriatric friend with a liking for blue, white, and red spandex. I think he just doesn’t like me because a) I’m not fainting every time he enters the room, and b) I discovered S.H.I.E.L.D.R.A, castrated the World Security Council for trying to drop a nuke on my head, got Nick Fury fired, and the important people realized that he is a relic from the 40ties and thus are talking to me even though he is the self-proclaimed team-leader.”

Tony DiNozzo rolled his eyes and smiled at the same time.

“J.A.R.V.I.S., the _lovely_ Miss Potts, and your lawyers did most of that, while you were broadcasting that Captain America was no real Captain. I saw the interview, T, and how you kept calling him _Private Rogers._ He was frothing at the mouth.”

“It was funny, though, right?”

Tony DiNozzo half-heartedly grinned at that. Yes, it had been funny watching the super soldier loose his cool. He did not know what the other man had said to Tony that he chose to embarrass him that publicly, but even the _lovely_ Miss Potts appeared to have no problem with it. She definitely would have stopped and/or chastised Tony if she felt it was unwarranted. He had a feeling it had something to do with the _self-proclaimed._ Tony had been named the leader of the Avengers, and was working very closely with Phil Coulson, the new Director of the new S.H.I.E.L.D..

“Yeah, it was…”

His friend’s expression turned serious after that, warm, brown eyes looking at him worriedly through the crystal clear image on his Stark phone.

“How are you holding up? Just say the word and I’ll contact the SECNAV, or have J.A.R.V.I.S. get creative with your transfer papers, or Vance’s bank account… you don’t look good, Dino.”

“I am locked up in a swimming coffin with 2500 people who think that I am the enemy. What do you think? And no, I don’t want you to contact the SECNAV. I worked hard for my position, it will only look like I was using you for all my career if you step up now. Gibbs said…”

Tony Stark interrupted him there. They’d had this discussion. Multiple times.

“Gibbs said he’d get you back _four_ months ago, Dino. He’s got the spy back, and the nerd, even though I don’t know why, their solve rate dropped to 50% since you’re gone. They could flip a coin by now and not be worse. During his stint in Mexico you’ve more or less worked on your own because Tweedledumb and Tweedledumber are worthless as investigators, and you kept it at 93%.”

“Have you been spying on me, T?” Tony DiNozzo asked, leaning back on his bunk-bed that seemed to be at least an inch too short for him. At least he did not have to share his cabin with anyone – little mercies…

“Nope, that’s totally on J.A.R.V.I.S.. You know that he loves his weird Uncle Tony and was beyond pissed about what happened to you in the past years.”

“Why am I his _weird_ Uncle Tony? Just Uncle Tony would be enough, don’t you think?”

“Both of us are too weird to be _just_ Uncle Tony. I’m worried about you, Dino. As much as I want you off of that swimming coffin, I don’t know if I want you back with _them._ I’m not sure they will have your back, and obviously nobody cares about your team and individual evaluations of them. It’s all in their files, yet, they are back and allowed to play being a cop, while the only one who _knows_ how to do it is locked away on a naval air craft carrier.”

Tony and Tony just looked at each other for a while, both sighing when they could not come up with an instant solution for this problem.

“Give him… give me another month, T. Then you can call the SECNAV, Superman, Chuck Norris, the Tooth fairy, and the _lovely_ Miss Potts to get me off this goddamn casket, and I will hand in my resignation to the NCIS signed with a pink glitter pen and a big FUCK YOU! note. You still need a reliable bodyguard, right? I might finally take you up on that offer.”

“You know that the _lovely_ Miss Potts would get you off that goddamn casket before any of the above have found their telephone, so you should put her on first place. And you could stay a Fed, I do have some connections with an agency that’s hunting aliens, you know? I miss you, Dino. Take care, will you?”

Tony Stark rubbed a hand over his face, sighing heavily again when they had cut the call after their version of _no, you hang up first_ that at least made his best friend laugh.

Dino was so good at suppressing all the bad things happening to him – not that Tony himself was any different in this regard. However, he had looked up the regularities of becoming an Agent Afloat. Agents applied for this position which actually was quite prestigious for any CV, and were not forced to take it by threatening them with losing their job.

Dino’s crush on his Boss and his almost imperturbable trust in that man had been forged in the almost two years they had worked together as a two-man team. Tony had listened to the tales and the unveiled pining back then and had hoped it would work out for his friend. After Kate’s death, though… that the other man’s behavior and respect for Dino had deteriorated somewhere along the way was something that Dino was still willing to suffer. Tony was not so sure he was willing to watch it much longer, though.

A small hand touched his shoulder, making him jump as he sat there on his couch, phone still in his hand, staring into nowhere.

“I’ve been calling your name for the third time now, Tony. Is everything ok?”

Pepper Potts sat down right next to him, disregarding his personal space in a way that he allowed only two people on this planet – her, and Dino.

“He’s miserable, Peps, and nobody is doing anything against it. They’ve been working on breaking him since his accursed Boss was blown up and hightailed out of NCIS.”

The one and only woman in his life pulled him into a hug, knowing very well what having to watch his best friend’s misery was doing to him. Tony Stark was a pro-active man, if he knew he could do something to fix things, he also wanted to do it – and not have to watch.

Dino still trusted that his Boss would get him home and would not let Tony help, though. Not yet, at least. His resilience was slowly crumbling away with every day more he spent at sea.

Carding her fingers through the unruly mop of hair on her genius’ head, she waited for him to start nosing towards her left breast before breaking the embrace, grinning at each other.

“You’re impossible.”

“Nope. The girls are irresistible. What am I gonna do, Peps? I can’t drag him back by his hair, and he seems dead set on waiting for that Gibbs person to save him.”

“You’ve never met that Gibbs person in person, and neither have I. I understand your ambivalence, though. He has not been very nice to our Dino.”

This got her another smile. In the 15 years that he knew her, she had been the one person who always supported their friendship, no matter who thought that he should get rid of the liability that Anthony DiNozzo Junior was because of his father.

Senior had severed all ties to the Stark family, though, after all, he had been severely burnt already once. Not to forget the restraining orders that were present throughout all subsidiary branches of Stark Industries worldwide to keep him away.

Pepper had grown fiercely protective of both Tonys once she figured out their family history. Tony Stark was quite positive that she outmatched Leroy Jethro Gibbs in that regard. And would also win most other pissing contests against the former Marine. Dino had mentioned Gibbs had a thing for redheads, right? Maybe he should sic Pepper on…

“Whatever you are plotting, stop it. I have to go back to California to overlook the progress of our wind-power plant. If you wanna do something for Dino, the Navy bought a couple of freight Quinjets that will be delivered in a few days. Hitch one and take it to the USS Reagan. We will sell it as a publicity thing, and you can visit him.”

She did not expect the two hands that were cradling her face, nor the kiss that was firmly planted on her mouth, the resident genius resting his forehead against hers when he was done showing his enthusiasm over this idea.

“You’re a Godsend, Peps, you know that, right?”

She received another kiss to her forehead before he jumped up and turned away to leave, before abruptly turning back to her.

“What did you originally come for?” he asked, getting a frown as answer.

“Well, you are accommodating Loki and Bruce in the tower. Agent Romanov and Mr. Rogers seem to think that this is enough reason to demand being housed here, too.”

That caused this steep furrow that she hated so much to appear between his eyes.

“They _demand_ to be…?”

“Yup. Phil… I mean, Director Coulson seems to be at his wit’s end with the Super Soldier, too. He’s gone from fanboy to annoyed by only the sight of him in under two months. He says it’s your decision.”

“Well, it’s also my tower. I won’t have the spy anywhere near my stuff, and I sure as hell won’t have Mr. _tactical genius I should be the boss of you and not the other way round_ anywhere near me. This is my house, I chose who lives in it. S.H.I.E.L.D. has accommodations at their base, if they’re too broke to get a flat, and too good to work for money. I won’t be their sugar Daddy.”

Pushing his hands into the pockets of his pants he waited for her reply. It was a small, yet proud smile.

“That’s what I told him. S.H.I.E.L.D. is a federal agency, and the Avengers are a last resort emergency rapid deployment force. They don’t necessarily have to live together, and Stark Industries is no longer involved, you have a job, they don’t own you or your time, and you don’t owe them anything after your stint with the nuke.”

“I bet _Private_ Rogers brought up his knowing my Dad again, and thinks I owe him simply for that fact? Most people on Earth know Howard Stark, if this was any reason to let them into my life I’d need more towers. Thanks for sorting that out. Tell Agent I said hi when he calls for your next date.”

He winked at her when he saw her blush at that comment.

“So you and Phil, huh?”

“It was just one date so far…”

“So, that means hands off the girls? And tell him I’ll come by for the shovel talk sometime soon.” Their ‘friends with benefits’ agreement after the failed attempt at a relationship had been mutual – and beneficial to both of them. And it worked way better than the relationship stint. They loved each other. Just not like that.

His question got him a snort as answer.

“I guess it does, yes.”

“Make sure Phil gets his hands on, then, Peps – otherwise I’ll have to tell him what he’s missing!”

He ducked around the corner to evade the couch-pillow she threw after him, laughing loudly before asking J.A.R.V.I.S. to contact whoever he needed to be able to hand-deliver a Quinjet to the US Navy.


	2. It is during our darkest moments that we must focus to see the light (Aristotle)

Tony DiNozzo had thought that his sea legs would come along sometime around the first few weeks aboard of the USS Reagan. He was not really seasick, but he still felt the movements of the ship, even though everybody kept repeating that a ship as big as this did not really roll with the waves.

Obviously, his stomach had not gotten the memo even after more than five months staying on this goddamn casket, acting up during everything that was not blue sky.

He still told his stomach to suck it up as he stood at the entrance to one of the hangars together with Captain Bolt and a few other officers during a heavy downpour and waves that threatened to crush onto the deck, watching as three freight Quinjets from Stark Industries landed perfectly due to their vertical take-off abilities.

Three pilots climbed out of the cockpits, two of them turning to the crewmembers that were gathering around the machines to get them secured. The third took off his helmet, stashed it under his arm Tom-Cruise-style, and grinned all over his face as he walked towards the open hangar doors.

For anyone else, the show would have been ruined by the rain that was plastering his hair to his head, however, Anthony Edward Stark was an entertainer, and sure as hell would not let a little rain stop his show.

Shaking his head and making his hair stand up in every possible direction he stopped before the men in the hangar, keeping his showman smile.

“Gentlemen. You ordered some awesome planes?”

#### ***

 

“You put a fucking jet engine on my wheelchair!”

Captain Edward Bolt was laughing along with the bunch of engineers and officers that sat with them around the table, astonished to find out that their quiet and to-the-book Agent Afloat was sandbox-friends with Tony Stark of all people. He also did not know that the younger man had spent almost a year to get back to his feet after someone broke his leg. The boy could’ve gone pro, and nobody gave a damn that he’d had to dig himself out of that hole. Well, except for the friend who had just made a journey around half of the planet.

Actually, considering the hilarious stories he had heard in the past two hours, he was not sure if they weren’t more like brothers, the way they had tortured each other with stupid pranks starting in elementary school and, obviously, ongoing until now.

“You were whining all the time that it was too slow. And you helped putting it there!”

Stark had not seemed surprised when he saw his friend amongst the people watching their new equipment land. To be honest, Bolt was quite sure that his friend was one, if not the only reason the engineer had taken the effort to come all the way to the USS Reagan.

He knew that DiNozzo had not applied for the position, and the kid was not made for a life on sea, even if he made the best out of it. He was definitely the best of all the Agents he’d had on board so far if you ignored the slightly green hue of his skin every time the ship moved…

“I wanted it to be motorized, not to break the speed record of the SR71!”

Bolt had not bothered finding out why a highly decorated NCIS Agent was on his ship, most probably against his will. He was doing his job, he was doing it good, and if he mothered everyone with a little problem, he’d never have time to do his own job.

However, Tony DiNozzo had laughed more in the past 30 minutes than in the past four months, and he was pretty sure that he also ate more while bickering with Tony Stark of all people. Edward Bolt was a father of four, and as devoted to this job as he was to the Navy. Troubled children, no matter if they were approaching the wrong side of 40 or not,  they made him curious, protective – and feral, depending on the situation.

“Please, as if the SR71 is still holding any record since I built my suit!”

DiNozzo actually was sticking his tongue out at the other man. Most people were sucking up to Tony Stark. He was rich, he was a genius… and he was rich. Being on his good side only brought advantages. His best friend did not need to make good weather with him. Thus not forgoing the rather crude answer to Stark’s announcement.

“Well, I’m sure you broke even some she didn’t hold. I guess nobody ever pissed in a Blackbird.”

His Agent Afloat ended up with a bread roll thrown at his head, and his crew and Tony Stark were crying with laughter.

Edward Bolt asked himself what had happened to the young NCIS Agent that his friend felt the need to fly around half of the planet to pay him a visit and cheer him up.

#### ***

 

The public relations team Stark had dragged along was not allowed to participate in their get together in the wardroom. They took a few photos of the engineer and the Captain shaking hands (and a few of Tony toweling his head dry for whatever else the billionaire wanted to leak from his trip) before sauntering off to the cabins they had been assigned to.

They hoped for better weather to get a few shots of Stark himself landing one of the Quinjets – mostly, they hoped for good weather, though, because all of them were seasick the minute they had set a foot on the flight deck.

Tony DiNozzo was looking back over his shoulder at his childhood friend with envy as they made it to his cabin. Senior had always been disappointed that his son made a big detour around every boat, one of the few things that he and the Stark heir differed in. Whenever Howard chose to take his yacht out to woo his friends and did bring his son along, Dino stayed on the main land, and T got to sail to his heart’s content.

So Tony Stark always had had his sea legs. Tony DiNozzo wondered, though, how he would keep up with Gibbs’ style of offensive driving. While both of them loved fast cars, Stark rather played with the engine than putting them to the road – he was not driving like an old Grandma, but he for sure was no Michael Schumacher. How he could reconcile his motion sickness in a racing car with flying his suit at Mach3 was beyond the NCIS Agent. Also, how he ever thought that driving this race car in Monaco was a good idea. But Tony had been dying back then, so maybe he had not really cared.

Normally, both of them were talking a mile a minute when they were nervous, or when it was just too quiet, when they didn’t want to listen to another person, when they wanted to ease the mood. In the moment, though, Tony Stark was following Tony DiNozzo with a small overnight bag and the inevitable suitcase containing MARK V in his hand to his tiny cabin without saying a word.

The Captain had laughed when Stark had regaled them with a story of how one of their bunk beds at the boarding school had given in to 12 boys sitting on top of it, wanting to make a joke when he offered to bunk him up with his friend again.

The engineer just grinned a “might be fun”, and couldn’t be talked out of it again. The Agent had not contradicted, and by the time DiNozzo was leading their guest away, it was not only late, but Bolt was not so sure if he’d not been played. In the end, he shrugged it off. The Navy only could profit from a bit of positive press that seemed to be following Stark and Iron Man around, and nobody needed to know that the main mission obviously had been _Cheer up Agent DiNozzo._

As soon as DiNozzo had closed the door behind them, both the overnight bag and MARK V dropped to the floor and he was enveloped in an embrace that he was readily returning. He had always been taller than T, and in the moment he wished he could bury his nose in the crook of the other man’s neck instead of having it tickled by Stark’s hair.

The trademark goatee ™ scratched softly over the side of his own neck, warm lips speaking against his skin.

“God, I thought they’d never let us go…”

“I wanna be mad at you for showing up here the way you did, but… I seriously started contemplating going for a swim…”

The man in his arms just hugged him tighter.

“Don’t even joke about that, Dino…” T’s head perfectly fit into the crook of his neck, his hands fisting the fabric of Dino’s shirt as he drew the other man even closer.

“I’m sorry… I didn’t… I… God, I love that you’re here, and I dread the day you have to leave already now.” Inhaling his friend’s unique scent of motor oil, expensive soap, and a tiny tinge of coconut, he shifted back a bit, locking his gaze with the other Tony’s eyes.

“You must admit it’s somewhat cruel. You can just up and leave. I have to stay. Yet I’m so happy you’re here, so I’ll stop complaining right now.”

They looked at each other for a few more moments, before moving out of each other’s space. Stark carefully picked up MARK V, putting the suitcase in a corner, before putting his overnight bag back on his shoulder.

“There anywhere I can shower, or do I have to use the crew facilities and be careful to not drop the soap?” the engineer asked then, making the agent both laugh and open a door right next to a floor-to-ceiling locker.

“I am important enough to have my own shower.”

The inventor was just staring at the tiny room that contained a toilet and a shower.

“I guess we won’t be sharing in there, huh? I’ll have trouble turning around without bumping into anything.”

DiNozzo sighed at that.

“You’ll be lucky if there’s hot water. And I still like my showers better in the morning.”

Stark just shrugged.

“Evenings or when Peps decides I’m too greasy – some things never change, huh?”

He got a smile as answer.

“Make sure you’re squeaky clean. I won’t share my bunk with motor-oil-you.”

#### ***

 

The shower indeed had been colder than Stark would have preferred, but he felt refreshed, and indeed way cleaner after travelling most of the day because the other pilots were too chicken to test out what his Quinjets really could do.

Dino was already in bed, his clothes nicely folded and stacked on the chair right next to the small desk in the room.

Tony simply put his clothes over the back of the chair before stashing his bag right next to his suitcase and walking up to the bed Dino was occupying.

“C’mon, scoot over”, he said, grabbing the blanket from the upper bunk. They’d both try to hoard the blanket at some point during the night, anyway, so why not have two right from the beginning?

His friend sent him a scandalized glance. “Mr. Stark, we’re on a naval aircraft carrier. It will most probably sink if you start some funny business with an innocent agent like me.” He nevertheless made space for the other man, scooting down with the other Tony until they had found a comfortable position that allowed the federal agent to cuddle up to the inventor.

“Yeah, I guess you and I’d be the first guys ever starting some _funny_ business on a ship of the Navy.”

Reaching out, the engineer killed the light before placing his lips against the other man’s forehead.

“If you’d wanted _funny_ business, you’d have joined me in the shower or not been wearing anything when I came back out. I’m here for _you_ , Dino, not because I wanted to scratch an itch.”

The agent just sighed, burying his nose against Stark’s shirt as he rested his head against his friend’s shoulder, casually throwing his arm over the engineer’s belly as Stark rearranged the blankets around them.

“Not that I’d be against scratching that itch, you know, because there’s definitely an itch. Did ya know that Peps is dating Director Agent now?”

Dino simply closed his eyes as his friend rambled on about losing his _CEO with benefits_ to the Director of S.H.I.E.L.D.. He had missed this. A warm body right next to him. Anthony DiNozzo did not spend the night. He never took anybody to his home because he did not want to share his privacy with a random stranger. His colleagues never saw behind the frat/playboy appearance he kept up at work, always assuming that he was bedding anything with a pulse.

But cuddling (or scratching itches) with his best friend was something different. The man had seen him at his worst, and vice versa. If he had to decide whom he trusted more, T or Gibbs, T would win. Sad, but true.

“I liked him better when he was still _Agent_ Agent. And is it weird that the guy’s scarier than Fury and getting on like a house on fire with Loki once he got over the _you stabbed me!_ thing?”

Stark placed his free arm under his head, getting comfortable as DiNozzo laughed softly.

“It took you like three seconds to get over the _he threw me out of a window!_ thing once you realized that you were flirting with the blue-eyed, possessed version of him.”

“I was threatening him!”

“Is that what you tell people?”

“That’s what I told him. He asked me if I came to appeal to his humanity.”

“He does realize that he’s an alien and it should’ve been… alienity…?”

Now the engineer laughed.

“I wish I’d come up with that.”

When Dino didn’t answer that right away, Tony thought he’d fallen asleep, not that he blamed him. He knew that Dino and the open sea didn’t get along, most probably he did also not sleep well.

He had already closed his eyes, not changing his position, arm still behind his head and started going through the latest modifications he wanted to make to the suit in his mind, not actively trying to fall asleep. It was sometime in the morning in New York and thanks to both of his new roommates in the tower he was actually well rested.

Who knew that both Bruce and Loki were health nuts and teaming up on him concerning science binges or living on a caffeine diet? That J.A.R.V.I.S. and Pepper were happily conspiring was not that much of a surprise, though.

At some point, Dino cuddled closer without actually moving much before speaking up again.

“T…?”

Tony grunted a drowsy “Hmmm?” in response, a bit astonished that he’d actually been dozing off when he thought he couldn’t.

“Thank you for coming…”

He lazily turned his head, his lips grazing the other man’s forehead.

“Anytime, Dino. Anytime.”


	3. If you can, help others. If you cannot do that, at least don't harm them (Dalai Lama)

Tony DiNozzo was not really sure what woke him. For the first time in oh so long he felt comfortable, not thinking about being abandoned on a ship in the middle of nowhere because someone though it was his fault that Jennifer Shepard had committed suicide by using a criminal coming after her.

He didn’t feel the dreadful metal casket move, didn’t have to convince himself to fall asleep because he needed to be rested enough to survive yet another day on this unsteady thing… it was not his fault that most probably all the sailors had an underdeveloped equilibrium sense… no, he felt comfortable, and warm, and… hmmmm…

It was his own throaty moan that really woke him, finally realizing the firm body spooning him, hot lips nibbling on his neck, wiry facial hair tickling what little skin that was not covered by the t-shirt he was wearing in bed. That and the hand disappearing in his boxers, fingers loosely closed around his very interested cock, giving it another tug that made him groan.

It was dark in the room, what little light coming from the alarm clock not really enough to see anything. Tony Stark let out a breathy laugh, never removing his lips from the other man’s neck.

“’Took you long enough. You’ve been undulating against me for the past 10 minutes”, the engineer grinned against the other man’s neck, pushing his own erection against the agent’s backside.

“’s too early for such big words”, Dino mumbled, moving against the hand circling him. He hadn’t really been in the mood in the past days. Okay, weeks… to be honest, he didn’t really remember when…

A thumb swiping over the head, dipping right into the slit made him moan again, his hips jerking involuntarily as his bed-companion tightened his grip and moved his hand back down on his shaft.

“Are you really complaining?” Stark grinned against his neck, giving him another tug, another expert roll of his wrist, another swipe over the tip that had the other man shudder.

“Nooope…” DiNozzo sighed as he lazily thrust against the hand and then moved back against his friend again, making the engineer moan in turn. Nuzzling closer, T started licking Dino’s earlobe, the muscles in his arm that had served as the agent’s pillow flexing, his hand grabbing the bedsheet to pull himself closer.

“T… please… I want…” Dino could not really finish his sentence as he lost the words somewhere along the way. It was unfair how his best friend was so dexterous with only one hand, managing to pull his boxers down and free his cock for better availability.

He would forever deny the needy sound that escaped him as T continued with his ministrations, the ambidextrous bastard moving even closer to be able to bend the elbow of the arm trapped under Dino’s head and his hand disappeared under his shirt, flattening somewhere on his chest, fingernails slightly digging into the skin.

Stark by now was shamelessly humping his backside, growling as he hid his nose between the shoulder blades of the other man to keep from marking him at places where everybody would see a love bite.

“This will be embarrassingly short”, the engineer groaned against Dino’s back, moving his hand in the same rhythm as he was pushing his own, still boxers-clad erection against the agent’s firm ass.

Dino’s answer was a rather inarticulate sound as he finally untangled his hands that had been fisting the bedsheets until now to join both of T’s hands, entwining his fingers with the one on his chest, joining the rhythm of the one that was pleasuring him.

“Really short”, Stark growled as Dino went rigid in his arms, his head thrown back, moaning a quiet “I don’t care…”

DiNozzo came quietly, knowing very well that the walls were thin and both of their voices might have carried too far and to the wrong ears if they were not careful. T kept stroking him through his climax, letting him ride it out against his hand, and then stopped his movements, panting against his friend’s neck.

“It’s… been a while since we did something like _that_ …” T stated after a while, still not moving a muscle, still embracing his friend.

Dino answered with another monosyllabic Mmmh, that made Stark free the arm under the other man’s head, let go off this nether regions while secretly wiping his hand off on Dino’s boxers, before pushing himself up to his elbow.

“Hey, you ok?”

When DiNozzo did not reply right away the engineer got worried, seeking around in the dark until he was finally touching his shoulder as the other man tightened his hands in the bedsheet.

“Dino?”

“I’m fine…” was the subdued answer, muffled against the lumpy pillow.

“Sure doesn’t sound like it”, T curled his fingers in the shirt Dino wore, pulling a bit on it until the agent turned to his back, releasing a belly-deep sigh.

“You know… this is something I always wanted”, he quietly said into the darkness, oblivious to the confused glance his best friend was sending him.

“Waking up with my hand down you boxers and ending up all sticky?” was the smug retort that caused Dino to swat in the other man’s general direction.

“Waking up with someone. Not just being tolerated, but loved. A companion. I thought I’d found it with Wendy, been making plans for a house, white picket fence, a kid or two… I still don’t know what I did wrong, back then. But I don’t even know why my colleagues hate me, so I’m not very bright, I guess…”

He hoped for T to dig out his insensitive side, make a crack or five about his white picket fence illusions, because it would’ve made it easier to deny even having voiced those thoughts.

What his friend did was lower himself to the mattress, tugging at him until he turned to his side to face each other, and wrapping his arms around him.

“You’re one of the brightest people I know, Dino. Screw them. All of them. They don’t deserve you. If I didn’t know that you don’t want the publicity I’d suggest to play your boyfriend for a while, and show certain people what they’re missing…”

Dino simply snuggled closer, briefly contemplating pulling up his boxers, but then he would have had to let go off T, so he decided against it.

“The _lovely_ Miss Potts would not allow that”, he then answered. Stark sighed deeply.

“She’d insist on the real thing. How long did it take us to convince her that we weren’t a secret couple after the first time she walked in on us?” T laughed at that memory. They had both been single back then (but when was he not? His longest and most stable relationship was with Dino, after all), and at some point so confused by Pepper’s insistence that they were _together_ even if they kept vehemently denying it, that they were not so sure anymore, either.

“I… I don’t think I want to _play_ boyfriends, T”, Dino said after a while, pushing his nose against his bed-companion’s neck. T was warm. It was comfortable in his embrace… maybe, if he just kept breathing in his scent, this mix of motor oil, expensive soap and coconut, he might be able to fall back asleep.

T’s hand left the place between his shoulder blades to caress over his cheek before moving to stroke over his hair, burying his fingers in the soft, easily tamed strands.

“What does that mean, Dino?” Stark moved his head closer, his lips touching the other man’s forehead. What did this mean? Did Dino want to go for the real thing? Screw all the others who did not want them and be happy together? Stay the way they were? Did he even dare asking?

The other man sighed.

“I don’t know. I just know that I don’t want to be alone anymore…”

Stark pulled his friend closer after that revelation.

“Oh, Dino…” He would not admit that he had similar thoughts. Being alone sucked. Having the person you wanted right in front of your nose without noticing you sucked even more.

It was T who started fidgeting after a while, making Dino who was just falling asleep again grumble against his shoulder.

“What’s it now? Sleep, dammit!”

“I’m sticky. I need a shower!” T growled back, letting out an annoyed huff when Dino’s arms closed around him even tighter.

“You can shower with me in the morning. Now get rid of your fucking pants and sleep!”

After some shuffling T finally managed to do just this, all with a Dino who was still refusing to let go off him.

“You’ll be a bossy boyfriend, huh?”

It got the engineer another sigh.

“You’ll be a dead boyfriend if you don’t shut up now. Good night.” He was warm, he was comfortable, and the ship had stopped moving. He would sleep now, no matter what.

Stark just grinned, keeping his lips against his best friend’s forehead. They would talk about the whole boyfriend thing again, most probably agreeing that it was a stupid idea. But they for sure would also come up with a few things to make both of their lives easier… not so empty.

“You know that I love you, Dino, right?”

He did not get an answer, but the way his best friend refused to let go off him was enough in the moment.

Tony Stark was used to pull all-nighters for days in a row.

Tony DiNozzo hadn’t had a restful night of sleep for the past five months.

It just fortified his decision to stay a few days.


	4. The journey of a thousand miles begins with one step (Lao Tzu)

Anthony had left the tower more than two days ago, and had done this rather quietly. Loki only realized that the inventor wasn’t there when the ethereal entity leading the household, the entire Stark tower, and most of the engineer’s life contacted him to cancel one of their _playdates_. And that had been one day after the mortal had disappeared. Anthony was a busy man, after all. They did not spend all their time together.

J.A.R.V.I.S. had not really gone into detail, he simply mentioned that _Sir_ was visiting a close friend to cheer him up. The way how the artificial intelligence relayed his message told him so much more, though. While he definitely would put some energy into finding out how Stark had managed to build a machine with a soul, now he rather was contemplating why J.A.R.V.I.S.’s voice sounded softer, almost fond of this… _friend_. The AI was definitely approving of Anthony’s visit to that person.

For unknown reasons this was occupying his mind since he found out. And he could not even really pinpoint why it was bugging him that much.

So he kept sitting in the Penthouse kitchen, clasping his cup with delicious tea to his chest, warming his cool hands on it. It had become a ritual in the past weeks since he and Dr. Banner had moved into the tower, his trial on Asgard a rather short affair after not only Thor stood his ground against Odin. No, also Frigga had been on his side this time, contradicting every sentence that was not of acquittal. They would meet up in Anthony’s kitchen for some tea (or in the inventor’s case, coffee, black, the faster it dissolves my gut the better), sharing dinner, and talking about whatever came to their minds.

To Odin it still might have felt like he was punishing the second prince of Asgard by sending him back to Earth to help fortify them against the arrival of the Mad Titan.

For Loki, it was like entering a different universe, though. Where else would he have found a person who was thoroughly cursing magic yet so curious about everything around him that he had the most satisfying conversations about his gift in centuries?! It took him some time until he figured out that Anthony did not hate _magic._ He hated that he could not explain how it worked, that he could not fit it into his knowledge of how things worked. Once the Prince had figured this out his reluctance to share his knowledge was crumbling.

The young God continued looking out of the window – the very same window Anthony had made some rather intimate contact with only two months ago. It was astonishing how fast the mortal was willing to forgive him once he had all the necessary information about the scepter and Thanos controlling his mind.

The inventor also appeared to be collecting strays. Amongst the bunch of conglomerate heroes, spies, soldiers, rage monsters and Gods, he had only deemed worthy Loki and Dr. Banner to be offered living arrangements in Stark tower. The archer and the widow were employed by S.H.I.E.L.D.. S.H.I.E.L.D. was bending backwards to appeal itself to Captain America. Or _Private Rogers_ , how Anthony kept calling him, much to the super soldiers displeasure and Loki’s (and, curiously enough, Miss Potts’) amusement.

Thor was commuting between Asgard and _his_ mortal.

Loki rather relished the silence that surrounded him in his own _floor_ – something that Anthony had somehow conjured out of nothing, making a comfortable home for both the God and the monster who had come to the decision that they would put insults and being pounded into marble flooring behind them and enjoy a _home_ rather that a hideout for once.

He let his gaze stray to the other man in the room now. Dr. Banner. Smart, so guarded and cautious, such a quiet, introvert character, a person who had to learn again how to interact with others – not that Loki himself could not use a lesson or two in this regard, either.

The three of them did not trust many people, had been betrayed multiple times, shared similar pasts of abuse, torture, neglect and exploitation. They had found a mutual balance, though.

Anthony was an outgoing persona, while Bruce was an introvert to the bone. Loki did not really know anymore, what of the above fit for him – he had been playing so many roles in his life that being shy, afraid of talking to other people, and hiding away in his quarters seemed so unreal.

Normally, they would have been laughing, discussing, theorizing. The owner of the tower would talk twice as much as the resident God, and approximately five times as much as Banner.

Anthony would make innuendoes that had Loki questioning the ethereal voice in the evening if what he had heard only hours before was really legitimate on this planet. Banner would laugh and either contribute or change the topic.

His poker face was too good to let the engineer see that he was flustered and thus gave as good as he took. The AI had promised to keep his inquiries to himself.

And Loki now finally knew what was wrong, lifting his cup to his mouth and taking a pensive sip.

Anthony was missing.

It was just too quiet in here.

#### ***

 

“We’d need space for my piano… yuck, how can you even let them get this bad?” Dino scrunched his nose as he watched the randomly playing YouTube video on the screen of his laptop. It was like a car crash, you simply couldn’t look away.

The man who was resting his head in the agent’s lap wore a similar expression before continuing their conversation. “I’d like a workshop. Nothing too big, just to be able to fool around a bit… maybe have DUM-E and U come along?”

Running his hands through Stark’s hair, DiNozzo smiled. “Of course DUM-E and U will come along. We’d also include J.A.R.V.I.S.. And of course you will have a workshop. I’d like a big kitchen… and a garden? Would we like a garden? I never was allowed to play in our garden. God beware I would’ve gotten dirty or brought some insects inside… Oh good Lord, this one had eyes and teeth, why are we watching this?!”

T just laughed, readjusting the position of his head on Dino’s thigh minimally to have a better view on the screen.

“I have no clue, but I feel I should leave a way bigger tip with my aesthetician the next time I go there… and maybe find a cure for blackheads, this is disgusting!”

Dino just continued running his fingers through the other man’s hair, both of them not even thinking about moving, about leaving their comfortable position for changing the close-up video of somebody having his pores cleaned. In his mind, he added another point to their ever growing list of why being each other’s significant other actually wasn’t a bad idea.

T never would mock him for going to a beautician, or having a manicure. He’d tag along and talk him into a face mask. He’d never mock his body hair (which, by the way, by far wasn’t as excessive as Ziva claimed it to be) or talk condescendingly about the way he chose to wear the hair on his head.

“You know we could simply build our dream house, right?” the engineer asked, having his friend sigh.

“You live in New York in the moment, I live in DC. It’s rather pointless to talk about a shared house, don’t you think?”

“It takes me about 15 minutes to get to DC in the suit if I go at a snail’s pace. I could commute…”

At that, Dino stopped the movements of his fingers, having T look up at him.

“You’re doing a crap job talking us out of this.” Green eyes locked on chocolate brown as DiNozzo gazed down on his friend who, at some point just shrugged and turned his attention back to the video.

“Maybe I don’t want to talk us out of it…” he said in a hushed voice, his eyes never leaving the screen.

“T…”

“Maybe I’ve had enough of being disappointed by people, of not trusting anyone enough to let them get close enough to get to know _me_ and not the picture they have in their mind. I don’t have a chance, anyway. I’ll always be a screw-up, somehow, because not matter what I do, it’s never good enough, big enough. They always expect bigger, better, more. I’m sick of being a constant disappointment to people who don’t know me. Maybe it’s stupid, but you said you don’t want to be alone anymore.”

Dino by now had started petting his hair again.

“Maybe I also don’t want to be alone anymore…”

And maybe this was a really stupid reason to enter a relationship with somebody. But according to Pepper they were in one every time they were close enough to see each other every day. Both Tonys’ partying and sleeping around escapades tended towards zero when they were in the same area. His PA had had field days in observing their, as she called it, domestic behavior, with Dino cooking, and T cleaning up after him… they always shared a bed when they were sleeping under the same roof.

They knew the other inside out, all the good and bad, and they still loved each other. Yes, maybe it was not the pink glasses and rainbows everywhere and butterflies in the stomach kind of love. But it was unconditional, based on trust and the life they had spent together.

It was quiet for a while, the next video showing the creation of some really awesome cakes.

“I’d rather buy a house… if the _lovely_ Miss Potts hadn’t taken over, you’d still be planning Stark tower…”

Both men continued watching the screen, Dino’s fingers still carding through T’s unruly hair.

“I’d have to make quite a mess to get J.A.R.V.I.S. installed” the inventor stated after some time, making the NCIS agent smile.

“J.A.R.V.I.S. is family. He’s worth the mess.”

A knock on the door made both men look up and abandon their comfortable position.

#### ***

 

Leon Vance was staring at the snowy flurry that filled the big screen in MTAC for almost ten minutes now. Their Agent Afloat on the USS Reagan had contacted them because a sailor apparently had jumped overboard from the USS Seahawk.

Agent Gibbs was not in yet, so Leon had been contacted, only to figure out that the Reagan had problems with sending visual data. He could hear them fine, but had no picture.

He was a firm believer in using new technology (not that video-chats were that new…), thus also being rather patient when the crew aboard the ship tried to repair the problem, while certain other people (*cough* Gibbs *cough*) would have had DiNozzo report simply via phone. You did not necessarily need a picture to get all the facts, after all.

This way, though, he learned that the USS Reagan housed a rather illustrious guest in the moment, who apparently was rather shocked about the state of the telecommunication setup of the US Navy.

“Holy Tesla, have any of you ever heard of fiber optic cables? Those don’t corrode at all, you know and… ugh… Dino, hand me that screwdriver, I need to get that panel off.”

He heard some rustling around, sounds of metal against metal, and agent DiNozzo was apologizing again for the delay, suggesting once more to simply give an oral report, after all, he just needed to officially be sent to investigate. At the same time, “Dino” was assisting “T” with his efforts to get the video system running again.

Vance had just started contemplating whether this might qualify for the top ten of the weirdest conferences he had ever had when in the background, Tony Stark of all people made a rather weird sound, an octave higher than normal, and it sounded like he was jumping up.

“Oh God, eeewww, you don’t need fiber optics, you need a cat!”

There was quite some commotion afterwards, somebody calling out for a plastic bag, having Vance ask for three times in a row what happened until he got the answer to what had caused the upheaval.

“Mr. Stark just found a rat behind that panel. It seems it chewed on a cable and got electrocuted. He is now repairing the damage”, one of the technicians finally answered, sounding rather nonplussed by the discovery of the rodent. This was a big ship, after all. You could not really avoid having them aboard.

The doors to MTAC opened just when the screen finally flickered alive, showing a lot of people surrounding the engineer who was putting the wall panel back in place.

Leroy Jethro Gibbs entered the room, frowning at the commotion on the screen, taking in his rather pale agent standing a bit at the side. Somebody was coming in with a plastic bag to discard a dead rodent. Well, this at least explained why DiNozzo was keeping his distance. What didn’t make sense was the guy who just got up from the floor, dusting off his pants and fisting his hands.

“I hope you have a bathtub full of disinfectant standing around somewhere!”

Of course he knew the man. At some point in his military career he had been insisting on only using Stark Industries sniper rifles. Gibbs had been within the large mass of people who could not understand why on earth the inventor had shut down the weapons manufacturing department. Maybe build in kill switches, or intensify the control of who the weapons were sold to, sure, but why shutting it down?

This had been one of the very few moments in his life where Tony DiNozzo had had no patience at all for his boss. He had been on the edge for the past three months (and secretly glad that he had received Pepper’s call that T had been found when he was at home, so that he didn’t have to explain his relieved crying fit to his co-workers), and had reacted rather indignantly to Gibbs’ accusation of the _rich boy_ being a coward.

_“He just freed himself out of the grasps of the Ten Rings, not that the military or any agency did a lot to find him, of people who illegally possessed Stark Industries weapons. What is he supposed to do? Keep producing them and look away when civilians and innocent people are killed with them? Why do you think he was still alive after three months? I don’t think the Ten Rings kept him because he’s such good company! I can absolutely understand that he doesn’t want to produce weapons anymore after they most likely tried to force him into making some for them!”_

Gibbs had been speechless after that outburst. He didn’t talk a lot anyway, but after his senior agent blowing up in his face like that, he seriously did not know what to say. Back then he had thought it was once more DiNozzo being DiNozzo, seeing the case from so many different angles that he was able to really channel the engineer’s feelings.

“It’s just a rat, Mr. Stark. You will find them on the ship every now and then…”, the technician spoke up again, shrinking in his chair when the billionaire turned his attention at him.

“Yeah, and I know somebody in this room who survived the pneumonic plague and rightfully is a bit nervous around rats. You ok, Dino?”

Stark’s gaze turned to the agent who just shrugged.

“It’s a rat, T. I’ll survive. I won’t shake your hand, though.”

Stark just grinned while all Gibbs wanted to do was bark a “Sitrep, DiNozzo, now!” to have his agent’s attention back on him. He chose to observe the situation, though. It seemed that there was a lot more his former SFA was keeping from him than this unsanctioned undercover op for Jenny back then. Yeah, he was under orders, it would have been stupid to tell anyone, he understood that. He was still miffed that DiNozzo had not trusted him enough even though he knew there was something foul with that operation.

“Someone bring me that bathtub then. I’d like to hug my best friend before I leave. Let me know if you have to go somewhere, I’ll take one of the Quinjets to the Seahawk before heading back to New York, Pep’s actually praising my ass for doing such good PR work. Ta everyone, it was nice meeting you! Dino, you better put that PhD in criminology to good use, huh?”

With a wave and a grin the engineer left the room while DiNozzo yelled an “All _your_ PhD in engineering got you was pulling out a dead rat from behind a wall panel!” before regaining his composure and starting to report about the sailor supposedly committing suicide.

When the next steps were clear (and, actually, all DiNozzo needed was the official go, he didn’t seek or need advice for what to do next) and the conference call was ended, Vance sent Gibbs a scrutinizing look.

The other man did not look surprised at all how well his agent was performing. All Vance ever heard from Captain Bolt were praises of the man. It was in stark contrast to what he had read on the summary of the agent’s personnel records.

His co-workers, agent McGee and Officer David did nothing to hide their opinion. Frat boy, chauvinist, fortune favors fools, just a cop, low education. Even Shepard didn’t seem to have a high opinion, for all the time the man had spent at the NCIS, the summary was rather short, mostly describing his flaws. From what he had seen in the past 5 months, he did contribute a lot to the success of the MCRT, though. While the case load was not as heavy, the solve rate had dropped severely, and the cases that were solved went to Gibbs’ account, without much help by either agent McGee or Officer David. The more he watched them, the more he was sure that the both of them couldn’t investigate themselves out of a corner.

He would look at the agent’s file more closely now. Maybe it was a mistake taking him out of the game. He had thought that a former Mossad agent and a computer whiz had all the skills needed to find a mole – actually, he had thought Gibbs alone would figure out who it was when he was alone with the three suspects. Nobody needed a reckless big mouth who got injured all the time or was flirting with all the female suspects. Why the heck had a _PhD_ in criminology never come up before?! If Tony Stark of all people was friends with Anthony DiNozzo, there _had to be_ more to him. And only now it dawned to him that Gibbs was not only asking to have DiNozzo back out of a misplaced sense of loyalty and hurt feelings over having lost his team.

Gibbs was watching him calmly, as if he had just waited for this moment, for Vance to realize his mistake. Before he could speak up, though, after all, he was working with internal information and all he did seemed justified, Gibbs addressed him.

“You broke rules 3 and 5, Leon. Make sure to adhere to rule 45 now.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I suppose there will be a lot less Gibbs bashing than I originally planned... every time I try to he comes out nicer than I wanted. Well, we'll see what will happen...


	5. You cannot open a book without learning something (Confucius)

After finally figuring out what rules number 3 and 5 were – McGee almost wet himself with puppy-like enthusiasm when Vance casually inquired – the director of the NCIS had unknowingly begun to work on rule number 45 (McGee didn’t know what this one said), starting with reading not only Anthony DiNozzo’s personal file. He had to admit that Gibbs was right. He hadn’t done his homework when taking over the mess Jen Shepard had left.

#3: Never believe what you’re told. Double check.

He had believed the summaries instead of reading entire personnel files. He had believed the scathing comments of both Officer David and agent McGee concerning their colleague, never trying to reconcile this with what he heard from the USS Reagan.

He had believed that Gibbs had the God-like ability to figure out everything.

Now, an innocent man was dead and someone was still leaking information.

The solve rate of the MCRT had dropped below the rates of any other team, and whatever cases were solved were due to Gibb’s efforts. The cases they _did_ solve were high-profile enough to gloss over that nothing happened anymore in the cold-case department when they were not hunting the occasional serial killer, and also he had turned a blind eye on that fact.

#5: You don’t waste good.

The agent in front of him proved to be an intelligent, witty, humorous young man who regaled him with a funny anecdote from his time spent at Harvard where he had gained his doctoral degree. The conglomerate of master and bachelor degrees in forensics, criminal law, psychology, sociology, and a course in profiling were obtained from different institutions, wherever he had been living and working at the time.

His FLETC records were almost perfect. McGee was always bragging about his skills using a computer, while making it seem like DiNozzo could not even switch it on the right way. What the computer geek had left out, though, was that he himself barely knew which part of a gun had to point away from him, and that running after a suspect was something he rather left to anyone else. After investigating a bit by himself (Delores Bromstead from HR was a rather willing source of information that would nix McGee’s chances to ever be promoted to _anything_ _but_ probationary agent) he had figured out that DiNozzo had done all the computer work that Miss Sciuto could not manage during his time in a two-man team with Gibbs.

Well, and he guessed that you couldn’t be close to Tony Stark and not know anything about computers.

DiNozzo’s face closed off, a solid mask slipping in place when his friend was mentioned, and he denied having any close relations to the engineer. He was rather convincing when he told Vance that they just loosely kept contact after having spent most of their childhood and awkward age together.

It took the director a while to figure out that the agent tried to make sure that his friendship with the genius would not be exploited, stating very directly that he had no influence whatsoever on Tony Stark, and whoever tried to would have to make it past the _lovely_ Miss Potts, anyway.

Vance actually backpedaled, assuring the other man that this was never his plan.

At some point, DiNozzo sighed.

“Why don’t you just stop beating around the bush, director? Tony Stark won’t start a hostile takeover of the NCIS if you send me back to the USS Reagan. I won’t lie to you and tell you that I’m happy about it, but you’re the boss, and I still like my job as an investigator. At least…”

Here, he interrupted himself, averting his glance. At least the people aboard appreciated his work and didn’t treat him as if he couldn’t tell his ass from his elbow. Yeah, he was sick all the time because the stupid floor _moved_ all the time, but at least he didn’t have belly cramps every morning before he went to work.

“I read the complaints you filed with HR and director Shepard, agent DiNozzo. I am deeply sorry that nothing was done against the obvious disrespect, especially when you were the one doing all the work. You will not be sent back as Agent Afloat. I already implemented some of the suggestions you made right after director Shepard took over. Why Officer David was treated different from any other foreign agency liaison is beyond me.”

“I’d rather not be there when she figures out she lost her security clearance”, DiNozzo said with a frown, having Vance sigh.

“She has been complaining since she is back, trying to rope Gibbs and McGee into making me take her back with all the rights she had under director Shepard. She will, eventually, after she finished FLETC training and we have a position as an agent she can apply for. Before that, though, she is the Mossad liaison, at a liaison’s payment, with a liaison’s rights.”

Taking a sip from his coffee, Vance looked at the younger man.

“Things will change, agent DiNozzo. I have been sloppy when taking over, and I will remedy that. Gibbs told me I broke rules 3 and 5, and I think he was right.”

With that, the director grabbed another file from his desk, handing it to a flustered DiNozzo who apparently knew exactly what those rules said, especially number five. They still had a mole to catch. So Vance would use his resources.

DiNozzo took the file, whispered something that sounded like “rule 45” to himself, making the director look at him.

“McGee couldn’t tell me what that rule said.”

DiNozzo just looked at him.

#45: Clean up the mess you made.

Vance intended doing exactly that.

#### ***

 

Leroy Jethro Gibbs couldn’t help but glance over his shoulder every now and then, looking up the mezzanine and the stairs that led to the director’s office, wishing he had some of those superpowers the people in the movies DiNozzo kept citing used to have. Super-hearing would be rather useful in the moment. His former SFA was up there for quite a while now, and even Cynthia was not willing to spill anything that might go on in there.

Ziva had been more than cold to DiNozzo in Cartagena, but she was pissed ever since Vance had made very clear that she would not return to the conditions director Shepard had granted her, taking it out on everyone around her. Obviously, Ziva David did not need any training how to be an investigator, no matter how many people told her that she was severely lacking in this regard.

Not that Tony had been the epitome of happiness when he saw the former Mossad agent, but at least he had been civil. The older agent would’ve liked to think that DiNozzo was happy seeing him… he’d been professional, though, polite… and nothing like the Tony he knew and… appreciated. He had expected him to make jokes, a ton of movie references, and… well, to whine a bit more to be allowed back to DC.

He had been rather indifferent, though, when Gibbs told him that he would accompany corpsman Taylor Henley to the US for his trial.

Most probably he was just waiting for Vance to send him back to the Seahawk. It was not like Tony could refuse if he wanted to keep his job. At least this was what Vance had made pretty clear after first assigning Ziva and DiNozzo to secure Shepard’s funeral and then sending him away and breaking up the team.

This time, though, Gibbs would throw a rather memorable tantrum to keep his best agent. He was sick of cleaning up after David and McGee, the past few months making him realize just how much work his SFA actually put into keeping the team going. But…

DiNozzo was in there for too long, now.

He didn’t actually expect him to be sent back to sea. Otherwise, Cynthia would have appeared already, providing Tony with travelling information… God, he really needed somebody to distract _him_ from their whining and bullshit they thought he would be interested in. McGee and David were chatting about how much they liked their tea or coffee in the moment, instead of working on their reports, and it was driving him up the wall!

Abby was missing, too. He had thought she would be hovering around, pouncing on Tony the moment she set her eyes on him. Ducky had greeted Tony as if a long lost son had reappeared, and also Palmer had hugged the returned Agent Afloat. All in all, Tony had seemed happier to meet the two of them than meeting his old team.

What the hell had he missed here?!

When he finally heard someone exiting the anteroom to Leon’s office, not only Gibbs turned his head. By now, the entire bullpen had stopped working and started to secretly (or not so secretly) watch Gibbs. Vance was escorting Tony out of his office. They were talking, but they were too far away to be heard. Both men were exchanging a handshake and a smile before Vance headed back into his room, while DiNozzo sauntered down the stairs, heading directly for his abandoned desk where he had parked his gear.

“So, did our dear director send you back to the big bad ship? Did you cry?” Ziva taunted, wiping non-existent tears from her cheek. DiNozzo ignored her, rounding his desk.

“Oh, but didn’t you like it there, Tony? All those pilots? I heard they believe themselves better than God. Should be right in your league, right?” While Tony frowned at McGee, Gibbs sent him a glare. If looks could kill, the little computer genius would have been dead. A fighter pilot had to believe he was better than anyone. Otherwise they would not step a foot into those flying death traps.

DiNozzo simply turned to Gibbs, not even talking to those two as he lifted his backpack, putting one strap over his shoulder.

“I’ll be reporting back as your SFA in a week. I have to sort out a few things, my flat is still sublet, all my stuff and my car are in storage. Vance approved that and wants to talk to you, agent Gibbs. Have a nice evening, probationary agent McGee. Officer David.” Nodding at the two other people who were sending him confused looks, DiNozzo just turned around and left the bullpen, entering the elevator before anyone could come up with a smart (or scathing) retort.

With another glare, Gibbs stood up and moved around his desk. DiNozzo rarely took an authoritative approach when interacting with his co-workers, he was only doing that when also his patience ran out on them.

Gibbs himself was only _agent_ Gibbs, when he was in deep shit with the younger man, and he could only speculate what was wrong. While he was good at reading other people, well, criminals mostly, women and DiNozzo were a riddle wrapped up in an enigma most of the time.

Cynthia by now was used to the fact that he just passed her, marching into the director’s office like he owned the place. Morrow and Gibbs had been buddies, so he didn’t care. Shepard sometimes had locked the room. Vance…

Vance was expecting him this time.

What he didn’t expect was for Gibbs to knock and politely wait until the director called him in. When he had closed the door behind himself, the investigator turned to the man behind the desk, sending him a look.

Tony once had called him a functional mute – a very astute observation. Gibbs was fine with being silent. He _could_ talk if needed (otherwise he would be a crap cop, interrogations didn’t work without communicating). With most people, a glare was enough most of the time to transmit what he wanted.

Vance gestured for him to sit down, watching the lead agent of the MCRT. When the man still didn’t talk, he just started to tell him how life in the MCRT would change.

Gibbs’ fist almost broke the table top once he learned how McGee and David had treated his second in command during his journey of self-discovery in Mexico.

He’d always been ashamed of his own behavior when he came back, dumping DiNozzo like he was trash even before DiNozzo started separating himself from the team. He had also thought that DiNozzo was able to look through the act of him playing the alpha wolf, taking back his position, expecting everyone to accept it.

His SFA had accepted it, but back then, it was mostly because David and McGee weren’t his problem anymore and he could concentrate on the undercover op without having to work four jobs at the same time. He never knew that Tony was offered and gave up a team lead for staying with him, willingly exposing himself to the hell his co-workers created because _he_ realized that his boss was still struggling with his memories and everything else that had happened.

And all Gibbs did was letting the duo infernale insult him at every possible occasion, and blaming him for keeping things from him that actually were not his business.

Vance glared at the shell-shocked man in front of him.

“Both of us fucked up, Gibbs. I’m not the only one who broke rule #5.”

#### ***

 

Tony DiNozzo took a deep breath when he finally left the Navy yard. He hadn’t expected McProbie and the Ninja-chick to break into heartfelt declarations of affection once he returned. He had also not expected them to be this hostile.

Obviously, Vance had been hunting a mole in NCIS, was still hunting him or her, that being the real reason for breaking up the MCRT. The man had apologized profoundly for treating him the way he did. He’d been working on fake information (and did a crap job getting to know his employees), though, but Tony didn’t really want to hold it against him. It was in the past, he could not change it, anyway. They had an adult conversation on how Leon could make it up to him, how they could put his education and his experience to good use.

He knew that a part of the opinion his co-workers had about him stemmed from his own behavior. But they never took the effort to dig deeper. What hurt more was how Gibbs treated him. He, after all, knew all about Tony’s education. At least that sealed the deal for him to keep things professional, and _only_ professional with his team mates.

Stepping onto the sidewalk in front of the building, he sighed. Gibbs had brought him here, he knew what he had achieved throughout his life (and thoroughly mocked his PhD in criminology when they still were a two-man-team), he had basically been living in the other man’s guest room for months because his heating was broken almost permanently. Gibbs didn’t talk a lot, but he made conversation during dinner or on weekends when they sat in front of the tv, watching a game. DiNozzo did not know how much of that the older man had forgotten after he’d been severely injured in that accursed explosion.

DiNozzo had never blamed Gibbs for leaving, after all, his life had just been turned upside down and inside out.

The way he chose to come back, though…

Shaking his head, Tony sighed again. He had a shitload of things to do, and he had promised himself to not revisit _this_ clusterfuck. He needed a cab, he needed somewhere to sleep, and he finally wanted his life back.

He startled when somebody right next to him whistled, followed by a rather loud “Yo, Mr. DiNozzo!”

Looking up and into the direction of the exclamation the investigator saw a familiar face... wearing jeans and a pullover.

“Happy! What are you doing here? Please tell me T didn’t make you drive all the way to DC…” He knew that T might do something like that. Send his driver all the way to DC just to have a familiar face around, to not have to take a taxi. Hogan’s clothes didn’t make sense, though. He was always wearing a suit, when… coming to think of it, he also didn’t see the limo…

“Nope, we took the jet. The boss just said to make sure you’d get in the car. He’d take care of the rest.”

Following Happy’s thumb that pointed over his shoulder all DiNozzo could make out was a simple yellow cab, with somebody sitting on the back seat. The person turned his head, purple glasses briefly reflecting the setting sun as he waved and grinned all over his face.

Hogan just grinned as his boss’ best friend took off towards the car.

#### ***

 

Looking around in the rather spacious living room, Dino had finished spooning his dessert into his mouth and already put the bowl away. T had hugged him the moment he’d jumped into the cab (obviously, Happy had a pal in DC who was willing to lend him his car) and not really let go since then, so they lay cuddled on the couch since they had ordered food. Not that he minded. After the rather cold welcome he’d received at the Navy yard, it was definitely great that his best friend was resting between his legs, his head bedded against the agent’s upper body, eating his own ice-cream.

Happy took them to Georgetown, to one of those beautiful red-brick buildings, and Dino learned that Stark industries had flats that belonged to the company all over the world. The _lovely_ Miss Potts spent a lot of time in DC, so they also owned one here.

“She’s busy in California for the next few weeks. You can stay as long as you want…”

Closing his arms around the man in front of him, Dino kissed the top of T’s head.

“How long will you stay?” he asked, watching the spoon disappear in the engineer’s mouth, regretting that he had wolfed down his own… maybe T would be willing to…

“Don’t even think about it. My ice. I took a week off. Pep almost fainted, obviously, it’s the first time since I’m the R&D department head that I’m officially taking a vacation. I don’t think I ever really was on a real vacation. I… I’d really like to try this, Dino. So I thought… we might spend some time together, maybe try out this living together thing…”

Dino’s gaze strayed to the MARK V suitcase in the corner as he rested his chin on top of T’s head. Happy already was on his way back to New York, still amused that Tony Stark of all people high jacked a yellow cab to surprise his best friend. Dino’s first thought when he opened the passenger door of that car had been that he wanted to kiss the other man.

He couldn’t remember thinking something like that when it came to T before. Sure, they had kissed, they had done _a lot_ more… This time… it felt different, somehow…

“I’ll mostly do annoying and boring things… finding a flat, because mine’s sublet for another 6 months, getting my stuff and my car out of storage… buy some furniture…”

“Never did anything like that before… might be fun… I could also give the car a once over.” T shrugged as he said that, scratching out the last bits of ice cream out of his bowl before putting it on the coffee table, turning around and moving them both down on the couch into a lying positing

 “I’d like that”, was all Dino managed to get out as T lay down on top of him, watching him out of those warm, brown eyes.

“I’d like all of that”, he repeated, cradling T’s face in his hands. All of it. Having his car checked. Having company for the annoying stuff. Trying out the relationship-thing.

“Soooo… any chance for me to get into your pants already at the first date?” Stark grinned, and somehow DiNozzo was glad that the insensitive side was still there.

“Hmmmm… nah, I don’t think I put out on the first date. I might be talked into a good night ki…”

T leaned down and his lips touched Dino’s before he could finish his sentence. They were soft, and warm, and his beard tickled, and when they separated, Dino couldn’t help the goofy smile that appeared on his face.

“But we could count breakfast and lunch as second and third”, he suggested, grinning along with his best friend.


	6. Friendship is essentially a partnership (Aristotle)

Dino sent another sneaky glance at the face of the man who was driving the car, his eyes stopping at the white bandage that was covering a rather nasty cut on his lower jaw.

T honked at the car in front of them, the owner obviously busy sleeping in front of a green traffic light.

“Stop it”, the engineer said, his eyes never really leaving the road. Driving in DC was somehow different from driving in California. Or maybe it was the car. It wasn’t a crappy one, Tony Stark did not drive crappy cars. But it also was not his R8 proudly displaying the STARK on the plate. It was a simple, regular car that wouldn’t attract too much attention.

“But…” reaching out, the agent’s fingers brushed over the skin right above the injury. “It’s my fault… I shouldn’t have…”

“Let’s just agree that spontaneous blowjobs while any of us is shaving are a bad idea”, T interrupted, reaching for his (boy)friend’s hand, entwining their fingers and then keeping both of their hands on Dino’s upper thigh.

“I’m not mad, Dino. I don’t recognize myself in the mirror because the last time I was clean shaven was… more than 20 years ago, I think. But it’s just hair that will grow back in a few days anyway. And you’ve been fussing over me more than anyone else in my life – over a simple cut and three stitches at the hospital. I expect you to finish that blowjob, tonight, though.”

Dino smiled, squeezing the other man’s hand.

“I’m still sorry. Though, I have to say, the goatee-less look suits you.”

It got him another smirk, followed by a wince because the freshly healing wound still hurt.

“Yeah, I guess I rock any look. You’ll be done by noon?”

“Vance said so, and then it’s goodbye NCIS for an entire week. How did you even convince Pepper to let you off the hook for so long?”

“There wasn’t much convincing needed. She almost kicked me out of the door… well, she wanted to, but she’s still in Malibu, so she did it over the phone. Said if it works out like last time she’ll send me on a vacation every three months.”

Pepper had indeed told him that he’d never been more productive than in the weeks after his vacation with _his_ Dino three months ago. Heck, he was even more patient with Captain Spangles, and normally he had no patience at all for the guy.

It had really felt like switching off his brain – doing mundane things like looking for an apartment and furnishing it, daily things like going grocery shopping. Tony Stark had never done things like that – and he and Dino had had so much fun telling people that he was a Tony-Stark-impersonator still working on the moves.

He found out that furniture-shopping could be quite exhausting, and their flat was just a simple one bedroom one bathroom plus huge living room apartment. Yeah, maybe a bit bigger than average, the security measurements were high end, and Dino loved the kitchen island a bit too excessively. To Tony Stark, these things were new, though. He roughly planned mansions like the one in Malibu, and left everything else to an architect, to construction workers, to interior decorators, and to Pepper.

Dino and he had chosen furniture they both liked, furniture that was comfortable, even though it was not necessarily overly stylish. They bought a king-size bed and all the stuff you needed for a comfy bedroom, lucking out to find an apartment Dino could move in right away in Georgetown, looking right over the Potomac River, close to a park, a cinema, and some nice restaurants. J.A.R.V.I.S. was present in the form of a few microphones, cameras and speakers, or connections to light switches, kitchen utensils, interacting with his creator and his _weird_ Uncle Tony via an _intolerably slow WiFi connection_ as the AI had complained.

They were sharing the rent (also something that Tony Stark had never done before – J.A.R.V.I.S. was peeing his servers when trying not to laugh about the fact that his creator was _renting_ anything), they were sharing a bed, Tony Stark was commuting between Washington DC and Manhattan, and he was loving every single second of it so far.

Not having to think about ARC reactors, cell phone batteries, the next Stark Pad, or Mr. Rogers’ sensitivities, it had done wonders for his creativity. He got up in the morning together with Dino, they shared breakfast, and then he flew the suit back to New York, did his work, played with Loki and Bruce in the lab, and was back in DC for Dinner.

Had he ever had that much stability in his life?

“Will you tell me what you planned for the rest of the day?” Dino inquired, still somewhat surprised that both of them had remembered their three-month-anniversary. Yeah, J.A.R.V.I.S. might have programmed it into both of their calendars, but he was pretty sure that this early morning’s sexy times resulted from both of them remembering it without any technical devices.

The… little incident in the bathroom was a result of both of them being idiots, but obviously T really wasn’t mad that Dino had severely injured the trademark goatee ™.

“It won’t be a surprise anymore if I tell you.”

DiNozzo snorted.

“T, both of us hate surprises.”

Stark laughed.

“Yeah, that’s true. So I thought I’d make good use of my new secret beardless identity and buy some bread, butter and coffee, and some of the jam we like so much. Then, I will have a look at your car and the weird sound the engine makes, and, finally, I’ll hang up the shelves in the kitchen and connect J.A.R.V.I.S. to the electronic lock.”

“That sounds terribly domestic. Could you wait with the car? I _really_ like _Tony the mechanic_ ”, DiNozzo said with a wink.

“You like the way my ass looks in my _Tony the mechanic_ jeans. Anyway, it’s getting even better. After that, I’ll fetch my boyfriend from this award ceremony that NCIS _had_ to have on the first day of our vacation, I’ll take him to lunch in our favorite little restaurant, then I was thinking about a little walk in the park, before we’re heading for the afternoon show at the cinema. They’re showing _North by Northwest_ today.”

Dino smiled softly.

“That sounds wonderful, I love that movie. Will you let me plan the evening?”

“Depends on what you’re thinking about. Both jets are not available in the moment, so we’d have to rent one for a dinner in San Francisco.”

“I was thinking more along the lines of heading for dinner in the small trattoria we like, and then heading home, where you can fiddle around on your computer a bit, before I finish what I started this morning. You can stop over there and let me out, I’ll walk the rest of the way.” Pointing at a bus stop that was close to the Navy Yard, Dino had T pull over, briefly leaning into his personal space before getting out of the car, brushing a kiss over the other man’s lips, and ghosting another one over the bandage.

“I’m still sorry.”

Stark just caught his chin, stealing another kiss.

“I know. I will survive. Now shoo, go to that award ceremony for your colleague, and I’ll have fun spending some money in the supermarket. Just text me when you’re done.”

After a third kiss, Dino finally left the car, smiling as he watched it leave. T was like a kid in a toy store in the supermarket. He for sure would come home with things neither of them had eaten before (and most probably would never eat again), and they’d have fun trying out what to make out of the rather unique ingredients he managed to find.

To be honest, he’d rather go grocery shopping with T than sitting around with nothing to do at the award ceremony, but Vance had made it very clear that he also wanted him there. So he had donned a suit and would sit through it.

#### ***

 

Ned Dorneget was still wearing his arm in a sling. The bullet that had hit him had almost shattered his humerus, damaging a tendon and taking a rather painful route through his triceps. He would regain full mobility, but in the moment it was simply annoying that he could not really use his right hand. He was left-handed, which was a good thing since he still managed to take out the crazed out psycho Mom who had already killed her ex-husband and then tried blowing up a kindergarten, because her child was allowed to play instead of being groomed to be the perfect little student she wanted.

The ex had been with the Marines, hence his death making finding the murderer their problem, who had dared to take their son to a fun fair when she had sent them to the museum. Some people simply should not have children. Period.

It was beyond him why he was being awarded the Navy Meritorious Civilian Service Award. Agent DiNozzo had said right away that it was the wife. Agent Gibbs was following the other lead of money to a loan shark, while junior agent McGee’s prior concern seemed to be to make as clear as possible that a) Dorneget was the Probie here and would only be a stand-in as long as Officer David was forced to join the FLETC training, b) he, McGee, was way smarter than anyone, and c) no way agent DiNozzo was right.

The loan shark turned out to be cold lead, the Marine having paid his debts a long time ago. Tony had figured out that the weird stuff the wife had bought from hardware stores and pharmacies could easily be turned into a bomb. Since Miss Sciuto also seemed to have a problem with Tony, though, this was only confirmed when it was almost too late and they had heard from the wacko lady’s psychiatrist who was afraid she would harm her own child.

So, while Tony and McGee (who actually wanted to be teamed up with “Dorney”, most probably to once more emphasize his seniority) took off to the home, Gibbs and Dorneget headed off to the kindergarten, the wackjob had a gun and tried taking 34 children and their teachers hostage, and the rest was history.

Ned Dorneget did not want this award. A man was dead, his son most probably would enter the system, and he had shot someone in front of a bunch of terrified preschoolers. At least he had not killed her, glaring at agent McGee who obviously thought that getting three rounds in the woman’s chest would’ve been better than figuring out her mental problems.

So, when director Vance called his name, he stepped up and accepted the medal without saying more than “Thank you, director”, and sat down again right next to Tony, dulling out the following employees who were honored for their efforts.

He still sat there when the vultures got up to raid the buffet, clutching the box in his free hand, staring into nothing for a while until a plate was shoved under his nose, and agent DiNozzo claimed the chair right next to him.

“I have two of those, you know? Gibbs has six. He never accepted a single one of his, always hiding away somewhere. I felt shitty receiving my first. I had killed someone to save someone else. I guess that’s why Gibbs never shows when he’s getting one, always sending me. It still doesn’t mean you don’t deserve it. Yes, you hurt somebody. But you also saved 34 children and their teachers. You saved your partner who might have been hurt as well…”

One of the bullets the woman had fired had shattered the front windshield, only an inch or two from Gibbs’ head…

Dorneget put the box with the medal into the pocket of his jacket before accepting the plate, balancing it on his lap as he started to pick on the treats Tony had selected for him. The SFA also started eating, having selected only a few, luscious delicacies.

“And the second medal you got?” the younger man asked at some point, licking some cream cheese off his fork. The food definitely had helped brightening his mood.

DiNozzo lifted his head, looking at the probationary agent while he was still chewing, making a “hmm?” sound.

“The second medal you got. You said you felt shitty receiving the first because you killed somebody. What about the second?”

DiNozzo’s gaze briefly flickered over to where Vance and Gibbs were standing, the latter spooning some apple pie into his mouth.

“I saved two people from drowning”, he answered, thinking back to how angry he had been at Gibbs for taking off alone to help Maddie Tyler. Also here he had shot somebody… but in the end he had been too busy performing CPR on two people more or less simultaneously to really think about it.

Ducky and Jimmy had insisted on treating him with oxygen and antibiotics afterwards, scolding him as if he didn’t know that jumping into the dirty water for sure was not good for his already scarred lungs. Gibbs never had said a word, and director Shepard had appeared rather not amused that she had to award him with the medal because Agent Balboa and Dr. Mallard had nominated him to spite the rather incapable other members of the MCRT and their director.

Patting the younger man’s uninjured shoulder, DiNozzo smiled.

“You did well, Dorney, and you deserve this award. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise, especially not McJealous over there who is giving us the stink eye in the moment.”

Actually, McGee was pissed that he and Tony had had to show up at the house, where none of the action was happening. After all, as the aspiring almost-SFA he was he felt entitled to be wherever the real stuff happened. It obviously didn’t matter that the woman had also wired her house to blow up and take part of her neighborhood with her.

Dorneget just nodded, turning his gaze back to his plate.

He still believed that the wrong man had received the medal.

#### ***

 

Leon Vance watched Leroy Jethro Gibbs devour his slice of apple pie with unveiled amusement, receiving an irritated glare in return.

“Dorneget approached me twice about not deserving the medal”, he then said, his glance straying over to where agent DiNozzo and the probationary agent sat chatting.

“Well, he and DiNozzo did all the leg work and figured it out”, Gibbs grunted. It was a fifty-fifty chance who would catch the suspect. Both senior agents did not even need to think about not sending off McGee and Dorney together.

In the end, their TAD had saved the day, so he got the medal. DiNozzo had made a big fuss over the young man being hurt. Dorneget was so eager to learn, absorbing everything the SFA was happily teaching him and actually learning a lot, while McGee was mostly bitching about the fact that the younger man got all the fun things to do.

That he always had complained about the ‘Probie tasks’ Tony had him do when he was still as green as grass somehow must’ve slipped his mind. DiNozzo did not seem to care about that, though. McGee could tag along and learn something, or face the consequences when the time came.

In fact, DiNozzo had changed a lot in his way of working. He was nothing but professional, and Gibbs would’ve never thought he would miss the movie references, the childish pranks… or Tony proofreading Ziva’s and McGee’s reports. While he still gave advice to the Probie, his other colleagues were on their own now, and also Gibbs had to do most of his own paperwork after being reamed by Vance for missing documents right in the first week after Tony came back from his assignment as Agent Afloat. And he could hardly blame Tony if it was actually _his_ paperwork.

The younger agent was still as brilliant as always. He had sniffed out Michelle Lee as their mole in the first week he was back, coaxing the young woman into working with them, finding and rescuing her sister Amanda without anyone getting hurt when they finally caught Ted Bankston.

And with all the time he didn’t put into correcting his colleagues or doing their work for them anymore, he’d made a rather big dent in their heap of cold cases, easily upping the MCRT’s solve rate back to 94% in the past three months.

“If I’d known _how_ good he is, I would’ve never sent him away”, Vance continued, his gaze turning back to Gibbs who looked suspiciously innocent.

“Some of those cases were ridiculously easy to solve, though”, Vance continued, glaring at the other man.

Gibbs only shrugged.

“Still too hard for some agents to figure out”, was all he said, keeping his eyes locked on Vance’s, never admitting out loud to what lengths he had been willing to go to get his second in command back.

#### ***

 

Douglas Mallard had joined the award ceremony for Edmund Dorneget, mostly watching the proud smile Anthony was wearing as the young man accepted his medal.

The boy had changed his ways since he had returned from the USS Reagan, interacting with his co-workers as just this: co-workers, no longer as a substitute for the family he never really had. In some ways, this had been a wise decision. Timothy and Ziva treated him even worse than before his involuntary assignment to the other end of the world.

Abigail also seemed to hold some grudge against the young man, and Jethro…

Jethro had stepped up to scolding his junior agents for their obvious lacks and mistakes instead of making DiNozzo work to cover them up. McGee had complained on multiple occasions that none of his reports were accepted the first time he handed them in. Actually, Gibbs most of the time was only satisfied after he’d corrected them three or four times.

Ziva had received a rather harsh dressing down when she once more questioned the purpose of her attending FLETC training.

Abby complained about the lack of gibbsian kisses to her cheek or continuous Caf-Pow supply.

Other than that… the closeness, the friendship Anthony and Jethro had shared seemed to be… on hold? Destroyed? He did not really know what had happened that made the young agent retreat from his former friends, but did suspect that it had been gradually building over the time since Caitlin’s untimely death.

Ducky mostly mourned the loss of personal contact with the younger man. He rarely interrupted his tales from former times, most of the time he was listening rather attentively, never rolling his eyes like all the other people at the NCIS. Anthony also always had some funny anecdote to tell, always trying to lighten the mood.

Mr. Palmer was still somewhat included into the agent’s life, sharing a beer or a coffee, sometimes lunch. From him Ducky knew that Tony had a private life outside of NCIS and appeared to be quite happy so far. Palmer refused to spill any more details, proving that he was a good friend, respecting the other man’s privacy.

The ME had had no intention of spying on Anthony when he left the Navy Yard around noon for a little walk around the block. The buffet had been rather rich and he wanted to try and walk some of it off before he developed some heartburn because of all the fat.

The younger agent was walking in front of him, speeding up just as Ducky wanted to call out and ask to maybe join him, when a classic Ford Mustang convertible pulled up on the street, coming to a halt at the bus stop, the deep purr of the motor ceasing as the engine was turned off.

“You repaired her already?!” DiNozzo exclaimed, the brunette man driving the car sending him a blinding smile that quickly faded as a hand went up to cover a bandage on his jaw. Obviously, the covered wound was still rather fresh and hurt when irritated.

“One of the ignition plugs was broken. And I pulled a dead rat out from behind the engine compartment. What is it with you and dead rats?!” The other man opened the door, moving around the classic car to join Anthony ogling it. He was shorter than the NCIS agent, but of athletic build, wearing some very well fitting jeans, a t-shirt and a leather jacket above it.

“I took a germicide bath afterwards”, the man added, moving closer to DiNozzo, holding out the keys.

“Ya wanna take her for a ride?”

Anthony simply threw his arms around the man, hugging him close.

“You repaired her already”, he repeated as the brunette moved into his embrace, his arms also closing around Anthony.

Ducky by now felt like he was witnessing something that was not meant for his eyes, trying to discretely move away.

He still heard the heartfelt whisper of a “Thank you”, still saw the soft brush of lips against lips, before Anthony snatched the keys out of his companion’s hand without letting go of the other man.

“Where should we go?!” he asked, sounding so excited, so young, so… unlike the professional no-nonsense persona he had become at work.

The smaller man shrugged again.

“Gas tank’s full. We could head home, pack a few things and take her on a little road trip.”

“And the shelves in the kitchen?” Anthony asked, sounding like he was not sure whether he should be even contemplate the suggestion, most probably thinking about how the team would cope in his absence, not wanting to be too far away.

The brunette pecked Anthony’s lips again.

“Will still be there in a few hours, or tomorrow, or two days from now. Let’s go somewhere, huh?

DiNozzo still seemed to still be contemplating it, and then nodded sending his friend a smile.

“Let’s go somewhere!”

Ducky witnessed another kiss before Anthony and his brunette friend let go off each other and hopped back into the car, a smile splitting the agent’s face when he turned the ignition and the motor started purring. The old ME still heard the roar of the engine when the car had already left, looking thoughtfully into nothing.

Apparently, Anthony had decided to turn more in his life around than just his work situation. Ducky certainly wouldn’t hold it against him. He had watched the younger agent pining for Jethro long enough, and all he got out of it were some ungrateful, disrespectful co-workers and a grouchy marine breathing down his neck on every possible occasion.

He might be better off with the handsome lad who was able to repair his car.

Jethro only had himself to blame for messing this up. He had been hiding behind the job and rule 12, behind amnesia and an abrasive personality too long in order to keep the other man at arm’s length.

Now it might be too late…

#### ***

 

Tony DiNozzo eagerly was kissing back as Tony Stark hovered above him, the muscles in his upper arms flexing as the engineer shifted his weight to be able to run his hand’s through Dino’s hair.

They had ended up in Sag Harbor, after first taking the more scenic route to… wherever the car might take them. Somewhere along the way, T had suggested a weekend in the Hamptons just because of the direction they were heading in, almost backpedaling instantly when he thought about what they actually had planned for the day, the movie, and dinner… and the work that still needed to be done in the flat!

Dino simply had shrugged and continued driving, he had agreed to the location Stark suggested, after all, they both deserved their time off, and J.A.R.V.I.S. had taken over renting a small cottage for the two _lovebirds_ , while T groused about figuring out when exactly his AI had become so sassy.

It had been dinner time when they arrived, so they ate in a cute little restaurant directly at the sea before checking in to their cottage. Dino very well remembered his promise from this morning, so they had ended up on the bed, only in their underwear…

T had taken the lead then, though, tightly embracing his friend as they shared another heated kiss, both of his hands never stopping to caress Dino’s scalp, his neck, his shoulders… so Dino leaned back, his fingers caressing over the smooth, warm skin on T’s back, enjoying the affections.

Ever since Ziva had nicknamed him _hairy butt_ during their undercover op as a married couple of killers, he had been a bit self-conscious about his body hair, even though it was not really excessive. He was a guy and had some hair on his chest, his legs, and yeah, also his butt.

T had just frowned at him when he worried about waxing or whatnot, but for him, it was easy – his skin was as soft as a baby’s. It was then that his friend had mentioned that his body hair had not changed since their first roll in the hay, and he really did not care.

As if reading his companion’s mind, T changed his position, scooting lower as he peppered kisses along Dino’s shoulder, down his pectoral muscles, licking a circle around Dino’s right nipple while pushing his friend’s hand that was trying to re-adjust himself a bit in his boxers, only to give him a squeeze right there that made the NCIS agent moan.

T just smiled, nipping at the skin below Dino’s navel, his hand running over the growing bulge in the boxers again, soon followed by his lips, mouthing at his boyfriend’s dick through the fabric, having Dino groan again, this time a bit more frustrated.

This got him another grin and a nip at the flesh were his right leg met his hip, fingers hooking into the waistband of his boxers, pulling them off enough to lick and nip at the skin of Dino’s lower belly, just never freeing him. Dino’s head hit the pillow in frustration as T once more mouthed him through the fabric, wearing a grin as he looked up.

“This is to get back at me for the beard, huh?” the agent panted. He could have easily used his larger frame, his combat training to turn things around. He didn’t want to, though. He liked that T was the one who was more dominant in bed, he was the first, and so far also the only man he had bottomed for, and T really knew what he was doing.

Dino got another grin and a “maybe” as answer before T lowered his gaze again, using a bit of teeth on his friend’s still covered crotch. At some point, though, the pull at the pants grew more insistent, so Dino lifted his hips, helping the inventor to get them off. T sat back on his calves, calloused fingers now not only caressing his best friends abs, but also straying to where Dino wanted them the most, the first tug on his shaft making his hands fist in the bedsheets.

T did not busy himself long with only caressing Dino. He moved lower on the bed, resting his cheek against his companion’s thigh as his hands cradled his hips and his tongue flattened against his scrotum, nipping and slightly pulling at the skin right beneath under Dino’s shaft. Another needy sound left the taller man’s throat, his breath hitching as T swallowed him down to the hilt.

The brunette soon had him singing under his hands, maybe even begging a little as finally a lubed finger breached him, finding his prostate with deadly precision as he prepped him, alternating between thoroughly sucking the agent’s dick and scooting up to lewdly make out with him as he worked another two fingers into him.

And now Dino for sure was not below begging.

“C’mon, T… please…” he moaned, rocking against these talented fingers, once more being silenced by these talented lips, this skillful tongue, taunted by another smirk.

“Please what?” T panted as he gave himself a rather hard squeeze, somewhat glad that he was ambidextrous _and_ able to multitask. Otherwise, the sight of Dino fucking himself on his fingers might have ended things right now.

Dino’s “Fuck me…!” wasn’t helping, either. Their eyes locked, the frantic movements slowing a bit as their lips met again, less urgent, yet more sensual. Dino’s hand cradled the back of T’s head, fingers moving through thick, unruly locks, damp with sweat as they kissed, his other hand coming to rest between his shoulders, feeling all the muscles move underneath smooth skin. His breath hitched as T removed his fingers, a low, throaty moan accompanying the feeling as the engineer lined up and slowly sank in, burying his head in Dino’s neck as he bottomed out.

They stayed close together, undulating against each other, Dino’s rock hard cock trapped between their bellies as T established a steady rhythm that soon enough faltered. The engineer moved to a more upright position again, sitting on his calves, seeking more leverage as Dino closed his legs behind T’s back, his hips on his lover’s lap, his head thrown back in ecstasy as he once more clawed the bedsheets while T had an iron-like grip on his hips.

Dino gave in to the need to touch himself, his right hand closing around his dick and stroking himself, his moans and keens as needy as before, mixing with T’s groans as the rhythm increased even more. Dino arched off the mattress as he came, shooting white ribbons of cum all over his abs, taking T right over the edge with him. The smaller man finally collapsed on top of Dino, panting heavily, unmoving for a minute or two, tightly closing his arms around his lover.

It was the ARC reactor in his chest that made this position uncomfortable for T, so he carefully pulled out, rolling to Dino’s side and cuddling up to the other man. Dino had thrown his other arm over his eyes, now sneaking a peak at his boyfriend.

“Wow…” was all he managed to say, before a cocky grin appeared on his face, mirrored in his bed-companions expression.

“We’re really great together”, T affirmed, blindly moving his free hand around until he had found one of their boxer briefs, quickly wiping it over Dino’s belly.

“How come you always use _my_ underwear to clean us up?” the agent asked with an amused smirk, watching as said undergarments were thrown to the other end of the room before T pulled the blanket up around them.

“Too lazy to get a shower now. Tired… sleep… ‘s okay if I leave the shirt off?”

At this, Dino turned his head to steal another lazy kiss. He knew that T was self-conscious about the reactor, about the scars around it. But, just as T did not care about Dino’s body hair, Dino did not care about having a live-in night light right next to him. So he just tugged at T until they were comfortably wrapped around each other, and then kissed his engineer once more.

“Happy anniversary, T”, he said, receiving a rather shy smile as answer. Both of them had been skeptical that this would work out in any shape, way or form.

In his humble opinion, they were doing pretty well, so far.


	7. Happiness is not something ready-made. It comes from your own actions (Dalai Lama)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I made myself an early birthday present here... finished it, and couldn't wait until tomorrow to publish :). Enjoy!

The God of Mischief once more sighed as he brooded over the construction plans Thor had delivered a few days ago. The reconstruction of the Bifrost apparently was hindered by only one thing – the incompetence of Asgard’s engineers and constructors.

Thor seemed to hope that he of all people would know how to even read the millennia old parchment, and wasn’t it sad that the only smart person the God of Thunder could come up with was his estranged not-brother? The puppy-dog _please-little-brother_ unfortunately still worked (and Thor actually also worked on mending their strained relationship), so he grouchily had started puzzling the pieces together, spreading everything out on the floor of the kitchen/living room of the Penthouse that the inhabitants of the upper 10 floors of Stark tower were sharing. He would never admit that he hoped for Anthony to come by chance and maybe help. He was a mage, for the Norn’s sake, a strategist, maybe a warrior, definitely a trickster.

What he was not was a universal genius. He had no clue how to read the plans.

The genius at hand had only briefly glanced on the different pieces of parchment during his inevitable coffee run and had started rearranging a few of them which had obviously been in the wrong order, completely forgetting about going for either coffee or back to his workshop.

Well. At least now the connections within the machine _connected_ and did not end in the middle of nowhere. Still, Loki continued brooding over it, while the mortal engineer started enthusing about the genius mind that had cooked up this machine. They numbered the single pieces, had J.A.R.V.I.S. digitize everything, and then went on by identifying the power source.

Loki only realized hours later when the inventor had long since begun to explain things to him in a way that the God could refer to the construction workers before getting up and regretfully telling him that he had to leave, that it had been quite some time since they had spent this much time together.

The Demigod invested a lot of time lately researching Thanos, trying to find a weak spot, appoint of attack to defend this planet… every realm against the Mad Titan.

Anthony was… to be honest, he did not really know what the mortal was doing all the time. The _lovely_ Miss Potts appeared to own a lot of his time, being rewarded with a continuous flow of new inventions and enhancements to products Stark Industries was already selling.

The rest of his days he spent with Bruce and Loki, sharing lunch, discussing Avengers business, chatting about their daily life, before leaving before dinner.

And now the God tried to remember when was the last time the engineer had spent a night in the tower, asking himself what had made him back off.

Taking a sip from his cup that was holding the rest of some lukewarm coffee he sighed, unaware that the other person in the room was watching him for quite a while now.

“Everything alright, Loki?” Bruce was preparing dinner, every now and then glancing at their resident Asgardian who seemed to be in a mood. He’d been nursing the same cup of coffee for most of the afternoon now, something that caused a mild smile on the physicist’s face. He still remembered Loki’s first encounter with coffee… or, well… the coffee-flavored acid Tony was drinking. It had been hilarious, Tony had warned him and offered to brew something milder, but Loki insisted. They had needed a lot of milk and sugar to achieve something remotely drinkable… for somebody with an iron stomach. Bruce was pretty sure that J.A.R.V.I.S. was controlling the coffee-maker by now and serving Loki something that deserved the name coffee and would not melt his stomach.

Bruce rather stayed with his tea.

“Why, yes, Bruce… I am simply trying to figure out how to explain all of this to Asgard’s constructors… I wish I could take J.A.R.V.I.S. and Anthony’s holograms with me… it is so much easier than having all that parchment.”

His roommate with the long dark hair just briefly looked at him, before turning his attention back to said holograms. Bruce just continued smiling when he turned back to his task of preparing dinner.

Loki would prefer taking his _Anthony_ with him, but didn’t have the balls to ask.

Tony obviously interpreted Loki’s shy behavior as disinterest and backed off. He’d dialed down the flirting and innuendoes lately, and also the time he spent around the young God. During the week, they saw each other on most days, except for when Tony was on a business trip, at least sharing lunch, something which Bruce secretly appreciated – he liked Tony, but the engineer could be really exhausting sometimes with all his energy, his ideas, his… rather sloppy idea of personal space...

The physicist was not used to people, years of having to hide from General Ross having him turn into a hermit – and he was even less used to people who chose to spontaneously hug him every once in a while. The Hulk seemed to approve of those gestures of affection, but he loved Tony, anyway, even though Bruce was not quite sure whether his alter ego saw the engineer as a friend or an amusing pet.

Loki’s subtle pining was rather cute, though. For Bruce it felt as if they were living in a soap opera, with the Demigod not even knowing that he had a crush on the other man.

He never would’ve thought that he was a soap-opera fan, and now he was living one…

#### ***

 

Gibbs let his gaze stray to the empty desk across their office space. DiNozzo had announced his vacation two weeks ago, and made it exceptionally clear that he would go, no matter which case they caught. They had enough TADs who could step in for him, and Gibbs would have to deal with it.

The older agent had not known what to answer other than “okay”. His SFA had stopped justifying what he did to anyone in the team, especially when no justification should be needed. He did not even need to say that he would go to Vance should Gibbs deny his request.

And Vance was pretty keen on his agents also using their paid vacation days or mandatory rest after cases that kept them in the office 24/7. He was adamant about having Tony at the award ceremony, though, talking the young man into joining by giving him another day off.

Dorneget was still on sick leave, Ziva was still doing FLETC training, and her reports were not that promising. He had known that she was no team player before, but that she was too stubborn and mulish to take the chance and learn something new had him contemplating whether he wanted to keep her on the team.

That left the remainder of the team with cold cases. Or… it left him with cold cases and a Probie that was so nervous around him that they couldn’t have a normal conversation.

He did have problems with McGee, and he was quite sure that those were not new ones. The kid was at least 15 years younger than Gibbs, and gasping for air like an arthritic retiree when he attempted running after a suspect. Gibbs with his bad knee was faster, even though Tony was doing most of the running, anyway. Not to mention the fact that the business end of the computer specialist’s gun rarely pointed exactly into the direction he wanted it to point in. He had checked whether the little computer genius actually hit the gun-range, finding the answer to why he managed to qualify every single time.

McGee favored the modern version of gun range. No real bullets, no real recoil, almost like a computer game… and no clue how a _real_ gun felt.

Thus, Gibbs felt like leading a kindergarten lately, Ziva bitching about everything, expecting him go get her out of FLETC training when she desperately needed it. McGee bitching about having to do his work – that he still could not leave all the techno babble out of his reports three months after Tony had stopped correcting them actually made him really angry and return the reports even when he would have accepted them before Vance had taken over.

His third problem child bounced into the bullpen just now. Abby’s unprofessional behavior always had benefitted the MCRT, while the other teams were suffering under her favoritism, being put on hold until she was done with their stuff.

Vance had hired a second forensic specialist because of that – and Abby had tried bullying her out of her lab almost immediately. Then she had pouted because Dr. Elinor Akselsen not only received the new lab that was planned anyway without having to share for now, but also would be the one heading it once Abby’s lab in the basement would undergo a very much needed renovation and modernization.

She also had pouted that after her dawdling with the analysis of the stuff DiNozzo and Dorneget had found at their crazy psycho Mom’s house, Tony consulted Akselsen when he was calling the shots, actually becoming friends with the middle-aged woman of Norwegian origin. Gibbs had watched him joke with the woman, flirting, laughing. And turning back to the no-nonsense persona he decided to create to cope with all the bullshit his team was aiming at him.

And he did not know how to deal with this behavior from any of his subordinates – Tony had always dealt with any team sensibilities, at least all the times he could remember. On some occasions his memories concerning the younger man were still fuzzy, no matter how long he’d been back from Mexico now. The younger man raised some weird mixed feelings in him, somewhere between wanting to take care of him, so close the feelings he’d had for Kelly the moment he learned he would be a father… and lusting after him, something that freaked him out – he’d never had that kind of feelings for another _man_!

Abby made sure he remembered everything about her, regaling him with tons of tales. In the end, it had amused him, and he was still fond of her, but her behavior lately was something he might have to call her out on. McGee still was nervous around him. When the young man had started stuttering a few weeks ago when Gibbs had been exceptionally hard on him, he remembered how Tony had tried to toughen their _Probie_ , managing to achieve that he at least was not fainting around their lead agent.

Ziva had told him that she saved his live, shooting her own brother, and that he owed her.

Ducky had shown him the cold shoulder, making him work for gaining his friendship back.

And Tony? Tony had had so many other problems when Gibbs was gone, and when he came back the older man just made everything worse. All in all, he remembered Kate Todd better than his second in command – mostly, because Abby also never shut up about her.

There were snippets and tiny episodes he remembered. He had found an OSU hoodie in his guest room, wondering why it was there until he learned that Tony had lived for a while in his house, first when he came to DC, later, when his flat had been uninhabitable in winter when the heating broke.

He had started reading old case reports, actually asked for DiNozzo’s personnel file in HR, having Delores Bromstead glare at him in a way that made him want to run away. When he finally had read everything, he also knew why she looked at him like that.

Tony never corrected his colleagues when they belittled his education or his skills, and he was not sure whether it was a game between them or if he had given up correcting them. Actually, he wondered if his team mates even knew _how_ qualified their SFA was. Except for seniority, he beat Gibbs in every other requirement for lead agent.

He actually contemplated looking up courses for team-management and mediation when Abby marched up to his desk, the inevitable Caf-Pow in hand, having to make her supply-runs by herself now since Gibbs refused to show any favoritism anymore.

“Heya Gibbs! Do you know where McGee is? I thought we’d go for lunch together, wanna join?”

He just looked at her neutrally, trying to figure out what this approach could mean. Was she trying to get back into his good graces? Did she even know why she had lost them? Why the heck did she think he _didn’t_ know where his agent was? He was the one allowing him to go for lunch, after all, trying to ignore the relieved look when he declined the offer of _wanna join, boss?_

“He already went. I already ate.”

Abby’s face fell slightly.

“Oh… okay… He’s working pretty hard, lately. Just… just don’t give him all the stuff Tony left, alright? He’s working most evenings, and I miss my Timmy…”

Her confusion increased when Gibbs snapped a “What?!”

“Well… he’s working so much lately, and he and Ziva have been doing most of his work anyway, so…” the scientist said, squirming under his glare.

“DiNozzo handed in all his reports before he left, and if anybody’s been doing other people’s work, it’s Tony. David still needs a dictionary to correctly phrase a report, and McGee’s writing instruction manuals for his computer instead of a case report. I don’t know what put this bullshit idea of Tony being an incompetent idiot into your mind, but you know him as long as I do, and you better stop with this attitude. DiNozzo’s the only one who knows what he’s doing here, David and McGee are crappy investigators. You know why our solve rate dropped to 50% when he was not there? Because those two could not investigate themselves out of a corner! I did all the dangerous and hard cases, and left them everything that would not endanger anyone. They did not solve one single case. Guess where we’re now? 94%. Not McGee’s achievement, definitely not Ziva’s, and your attitude also did not help! So you better change that, or I’ll make sure that other things are changed!”

He didn’t know how much he had been holding in until he finally exploded. Abby looked at him, her eyes filling with tears, her face still showing confusion and hurt – confusion, because this rant may have been the longest conglomeration of sentences Leroy Jethro Gibbs had ever said. Hurt, because she was at the brunt end of his anger.

“B-but, Gibbs…”

He just glared at her.

“I think you better leave now, Miss Sciuto.”

She did exactly that, not knowing what to answer to this version of Gibbs who did not coddle her, while he tried to ignore the stage-whispered “Finally!” by Balboa behind the divider.

After staring into nowhere for a while he called Cynthia, taking off the rest of the day. He would shoot McGee if he had to deal with him right now.

#### ***

 

Dino watched the man sleeping right next to him. All those years when he had to show up early in the office had primed his internal clock to wake up early enough to not be chewed out by Gibbs because he was half a minute late. He did this sometimes; sitting in bed and watching T sleep. It might be creepy, but after hearing that his best friend had suffered not only from PTSD, but also was having nightmares of flying into the portal and seeing the Chitauri army there, he sometimes watched him, feeling somewhat proud that right next to him, T slept like a stone. Every. Single. Night.

It had gotten rather chilly during the nights in Long Island, making Dino fetch another woolen blanket that T was hogging in the moment, bunching it up and using it as something to rest his chest on as he slept on his side, taking some of the pressure off his reactor. Reaching out, the agent ran his fingers through the tuft of unruly brunet hair that was more or less the only thing visible of the person rolled into the other blanket.

After they had arrived two days ago, he had appropriately woken a still naked T in the morning, paying his debt to an initially sleeping man, having him moaning and panting in his sleep until Dino decided to really wake him up by assaulting his prostate as he gently stretched his boyfriend’s hole. After all, an actively participating lover was rather favorable for the great sex they shared. And what great sex they had…

Now, T sighed at his touch, burying his nose in the soft blanket, making Dino smile. The moment the thermometer had dropped, T had wrapped up in his silk pajamas and wore socks in bed while Dino died of a heatstroke only thinking about the additional layers of clothing and continued sleeping in his birthday suit. But then… he’d never had to survive in a cave in Afghanistan, and would’ve never believed how cold it could be there until T had told him about those three months.

Those three months also were the reason that shower-sex was a no-go. Washing his hair was already hard enough after being waterboarded, and the NCIS agent did understand that water in his face was something T would rather avoid.

They had taken a stroll through Sag Harbor after lazing around in bed and a quick shower, going for lunch and then catching up on their visit to the cinema, before buying a few supplies for dinner and going for a walk in the park. T had commented that it felt like they were an old married couple, all boring and lame.

Both of them had enough action going on in their life that boring and lame was really appreciated. So they kept going, holding hands, giving in to the urge to kiss every once in a while, eventually reaching the beach, trudging through the sand, actually discussing the kitchen shelves, if they should change the living room setup because somehow the window and the tv were lining up and if the sun was shining in in a disadvantageous angle, you couldn’t see a thing.

Kate the fish and her new companion Yinsen would get a bigger aquarium and a J.A.R.V.I.S.-controlled feeding automate rather than having to depend on the food-for-a-week blocks.

It started raining about ten minutes from their cottage, and both of them were wet to the bones and shivering when they finally reached the house, sharing a hot shower to warm up, and then bundling up in warmer clothes.

Dino had just started on dicing up onions when T entered the kitchen in Dino’s black cashmere turtleneck. The sleeves were a bit too long, only T’s fingertips were visible, but otherwise he was filling the pullover rather nicely, showing off all the muscles in his upper body. Almost letting go of the knife (and almost dicing off one of his fingers when catching it) Dino ogled his boyfriend, appreciating the way his jeans hugged his hips, smiling as his socked feet patted into the kitchen, moving up to Dino and closing his arms around him from behind, resting his forehead against the taller man’s back.

“Hmmm… you’re warm…”

Dino smiled, returning to his task.

“My pullover suits you”, he then said.

“It’s soft”, T answered, not changing his position, his hands firmly staying above the belt. Well, they’d already figured out that feeling the other one up and sharp knives did not match well.

“I _really_ like the way you look in it… in a _keep the pullover on while I fuck you, ass in the air, on the sofa_ kind of way.” Dino’s voice dropped an octave as he told this phantasy to T, who groaned his approval in return. The engineer still did not move.

“Can we eat first? I’m hungry from all the walking. I have a driver for a reason, you know?”

Dino laughed at that, affirming that yes, they would eat first, and also would clean up afterwards to appeal to T’s need of having everything in its place.

But after they were done with that, he did use his larger frame to his advance, doing exactly what he had promised, never before having felt that urge to kiss, and feel, and own, simply because someone was wearing his clothes. He’d never have thought that this was a turn-on for him, to be honest. When Wendy had been wearing his shirts to bed he was rather annoyed, mentally labeling these shirts as _hers_ because she was filling them in all the wrong ways, shoulders too narrow, her breasts leaving weird dents…

Huh… might have been a clue already back then that she was not _the one_ …

Dino still smiled, his fingers once more caressing over T’s hair before he got out of bed, actually putting on some clothes and socks, because it was really a bit chilly.

Realistically, both of them knew that their honeymoon period would end sooner or later – they still were jumping each other’s bones the moment they were in the mood, but that would not last forever. They’d had their little disagreements already before they became a couple, but the important stuff was discussed before any of them could work up any resentment. Their last really big fight had been ages ago when Dino had unintentionally broken one of T’s inventions. They had been 8 or 9, the argument had ended in tears, and the boys had decided that they were smarter than that.

Well… they would enjoy any phase of their relationship, as long as it felt good.

T was woken by the smell of coffee and breakfast, briefly contemplating to ignore the angelic odors and stay in his warm cocoon.

When the bed dipped right next to him, he at least chose to turn around, being greeted by a smiling Dino and a tray with breakfast.

“You’re spoiling me” he beamed as he sat up, wiping the sleep out of his eyes and reaching for the cup that contained the dark fuel of his life.

Dino simply smiled back, receiving a kiss that tasted of T’s acid-coffee that he had diluted for himself with water, creamer, sugar, and the hazelnut crap Gibbs despised so much.

“I left you the kitchen to clean up”, he then grinned, having T laugh as the agent scooted in under the blanket with him and placed the tray on their legs.

As they continued eating, both couldn’t help the smiles on their face.

Being happy was actually quite easy when you did not allow anybody to interfere.


	8. Respond intelligently even to unintelligent treatment (Lao Tzu)

Aldrich Killian had had the decency to wait until DiNozzo and Stark were back in DC for about two weeks and had finished finalizing the interior decoration of their kitchen before he attacked and kidnapped Pepper Potts.

What he had not calculated in while performing this act of sheer stupidity was that he would have not only Iron Man going after him as soon as he found out. No, Tony recruited the Hulk and Loki, and Phil Coulson couldn’t be kept away even if they wanted to. The Department of Homeland Security long since had found out that the washed-up drug-addict Trevor Slattery was posing as the Mandarin, and let everybody think they bought it while looking for the bad guys behind the scam. Killian kidnapping Coulson’s girlfriend had made things very personal for the director of the daughter organization of the DSH, namely S.H.I.E.L.D..

Of course, Killian had not been amused that 20 years after Tony Stark had left him waiting on top of that hotel in Switzerland also Pepper Potts was trying to get rid of him as soon as possible because a) he was creeping her out, b) Stark Industries had its own genius at hand and didn’t need him, and c) Phil was waiting to take her to lunch.

His annoyance showed a little, if you counted yellowing eyes, that fiery hue of his skin and slightly scorched sleeves as, well, a little.

Happy ended up with some rather nasty burns when he tried to save his boss-lady, and the entire incident of Pepper Potts slamming her rather pointed Jimmy Choos right between Killian’s legs and almost scratching his eyes out before _his_ bodyguard could take her down went viral in minutes in the social media after passerby people as well as employees posted videos showing the incident from multiple angles. At the same time, the emergency hotline received dozens of frantic calls, and J.A.R.V.I.S. contacted his creator.

Tony Stark would have found it funny how Killian walked afterwards, if not the bodyguard had had a very rough grip on one of his best friend’s hair and a gun against her head, his driver/head of security lay on the floor with 2nd and 3rd degree burns, and J.A.R.V.I.S. informed him that he had lost them in traffic at some point because some traffic cameras were offline and Miss Potts did not have her phone on her.

It was easier than any of them thought to follow their tracks. People shared videos, posted where they had seen the limousine. They only lost her when Killian switched the entire escape to a helicopter or private jet and thus entered a small airport, either having people there, or just stealing one of the aircrafts and disabling whatever GPS tracker the aircraft might have had, because J.A.R.V.I.S. could not follow – no matter what he’d hacked so far.

By that time a severely pissed off Phil Coulson had been contacted by a furious Iron Man and agreed to work with the three people he trusted having his back when going for the guy, while also getting governmental institutions to help.

Stark arrived in Manhattan only minutes after J.A.R.V.I.S. alerted him, with the order from his boyfriend to kill that fucker and to call immediately after he was done, leaving a frantic Dino in DC. By the time he landed, Banner was already donning the ‘Hulk pants’. Loki was already in his combat gear and still on the phone with Phil, reassuring the director of New S.H.I.E.L.D. that no harm would befall the Lady Pepper.

Tony Stark stepped out of MARK V the second he touched down on the platform, immediately starting to activate protocol over protocol as if he had planned for this exact eventuality already years ago.

Suit after suit was assembling and leaving the mansion in Malibu, manned by J.A.R.V.I.S. and fanning out to look for Pepper, while the AI simultaneously continued hacking into anything he thought valuable to find her. When Phil half-heartedly tried to intervene and bring up national law, his image on the screen only received a glare from the engineer.

“Do you think we care about national law when our family is attacked?! Keep going, Jarv.”

The AI did not even affirm his creator’s encouragement and simply did keep going.

Phil did not even sigh.

“Give me another two minutes to get the official authorization… Virginia will kill me if you get arrested because you filleted this asshole…”

Tony just gritted his teeth and told J.A.R.V.I.S. to ready MARK XVII for him before assembling the rest of the Iron Legion that was stored in Manhattan to make sure nothing happened here while they were gone.

Nobody even thought about informing the other Avengers when Loki gathered the other two men around him and teleported them to California to join the director of S.H.I.E.L.D..

#### ***

 

It was Pepper who called him when everything was over.

Not T.

T was in the hospital, having an emergency surgery performed to get the rib out that was piercing his lung. A bunch of cardiologists and orthopedists were crowding the OR, too, to fix his thorax and cracked sternum, get the shrapnel out and pray that the heart was not too damaged. Dino as his medical proxy had approved the entire procedure, feeling so out of his wits that he did not even try to figure out _what would T do_.

That came later when they were waiting. It was again J.A.R.V.I.S. who saved the day, suggesting methods to efficiently restore his creator’s breastbone. It was also the AI who made sure that the reactor would not be touched or photographed, let alone stolen by anyone. The armada of Iron Men around the building made sure of that. That, and the fact that the artificial intelligence had somehow entered the communication system in the hospital, chatting with the doctors in the surgery room. This way, they at least had firsthand information.

Pepper, Phil, Bruce, and Loki were at the hospital, telling everyone who told them to go home, the surgery would take a few hours, to go fuck themselves. It also served as a diversion tactic – everybody knew something had happened, there would not be a metal suit positioned at every possible entrance or exit if not. But nobody would really know yet who had been hurt. Happy already was in the building, his burns being treated. Pepper was the one who had been kidnapped and not really been treated nicely right from the beginning. Nobody would assume the Hulk or the Asgardian God had been harmed, but who knew? Speculations flew high and nobody really knew a thing.

Most probably because J.A.R.V.I.S. also made sure that nothing he did not approve of did leave the building. The AI was exploiting his full computing capacity in a way he never had before, steering all those suits while keeping the social media on the tightest leash it had ever been on since the invention of the internet.

T would have been proud.

Dino just sat on his couch, wrapped up in one of T’s many blankets, phone in hand, charger plugged in, waiting with them. He sat there, paralyzed, looking at the aquarium but not really seeing how Kate the fish and Yinsen were swimming their rounds, thinking back those few years when his best friend went missing in the Afghan desert.

By the time a doctor came, announcing that Mr. Stark survived the surgery and would most probably recover fully, he still sat there, cursing his father and his stupid credo of _DiNozzos don’t cry (or faint)._ Fuck him. He would cry all he wanted over almost losing his boyfriend, his _best_ friend, again.

Pepper stayed with him on the phone, snapping at Phil when he asked her to finish the call and get checked up herself. She had been refusing all the time, looking astonishingly neat and clean for having been kidnapped and fighting for her live in an inferno only hours ago. Only Stark and she knew what had happened in the end when they had confronted the head of A.I.M. – Loki and Phil had ended up saving President Ellis, while the Hulk was happily smashing Killian’s goons – after all, those extremis-enhanced people were a bit more durable than his usual opponents.

It was Dino who told her that it was fine, that he would go to bed now, maybe take the day off tomorrow, advising her to do the same. He got a shaky laugh as answer. As if. Both of them would need the distraction work created.

He must have dozed off then, ignoring the first two calls by Gibbs before answering his phone and heading out in the middle of the night to catch the guy who had killed another Petty Officer. He wanted to tell his boss… some very unflattering things, to get rid of him, he wanted to go to the other end of the country and be with T, and not hunt for some crazed person who thought it was a good idea to go around and murder other people.

The explanation _Hey boss, Tony Stark’s my boyfriend, he was hurt, and you can shove that stupid job where the sun doesn’t shine_ was something that would not really leave his lips, though. Also, Pepper talked him out of revealing too much. Once the word was out, there was no going back. Even though Gibbs was no blabbermouth, sooner or later he would have everyone in the office nagging him to get closer to Tony Stark. He didn’t even want to think about Ziva’s and McGee’s reactions. The Mossad agent would most probably try to somehow exploit their connection, while McGee would pout about the fact that he _wasn’t_ Tony Stark’s boyfriend.

Also, her argument that being too close to Tony was not always fun, was rather valid in the moment – after all, Killian had gone after _her_ to get to Stark. She had been freed, Killian was dead. But who knew how many other Extremis lab rats were still around, trying to fulfil their master’s quest?

“I’m afraid that it is better if you lay low for a while, Dino. I know, it sucks, _I_ wanna break down that door and just curl up in bed with him, I can’t even imagine how you feel. We will keep you updated, and have you over here the earliest moment possible without causing too much of a public interest.”

So, he went to do his job, and, obviously, it sucked to be a Petty Officer. The red shirts of the Navy, it seemed, always there when somebody needed a victim. A sad smile crossed his lips, T would have loved this comparison, would have laughed as he sent him out to catch the bad guy with a kiss and pinching his ass before closing the door and curling up in bed with at least three blankets, working on something until Dino called to let him know that he would’ve to stay in the office, or cuddling up to him once he came back home.

At least T was in the wake up room now. Pepper was there, J.A.R.V.I.S. was there on her phone, sending him texts every few minutes to keep him updated on his boyfriend’s status.

At the crime scene, Tony was bagging, tagging, and taking pictures, business as usual. He did not even try ordering McGee, or Ziva who had only recently (and temporarily) been allowed back on the team for training reasons to do anything. They would just question everything he said, anyway, so he did it himself.

Gibbs watched how Tweedledee and Tweedledumb stood there, idling around, watching the SFA doing his job. They did not even try to figure out what they could do, waiting for Gibbs to finally order them to go and question the neighborhood.

By the time they had reached the second house (because dividing up the houses and taking only half of the time questioning pissed people who had been woken by the fuss the LEOs and the NCIS created obviously was also something that needed to be ordered), DiNozzo had found the gun, and Gibbs had called Vance.

McGee wouldn’t be happy that he’d have to join David for her next round of FLETC training concerning crime scene procession.

#### ***

 

The fingerprints on the gun had led them to their criminal, a rather foolish loan shark who wanted to make a statement to his other debtors by killing this client.

The stupid face he made when Tony asked if it wouldn’t have been smarter to let the guy live and maybe get his money back instead of facing prison-time for the rest of his life had Gibbs snort amusedly while standing in the observation room. The kid had worked nonstop for the past four days, solving the case more or less on his own as Gibbs tore into David and McGee with a viciousness that normally had DiNozzo react and place himself protectively in front of any Probie.

He’d definitely done that when the lead agent and the computer geek had tried intimidating Ned Dorneget when he had joined them as their TAD. His other colleagues obviously had lost the privilege of puppy protection, which very recently had led to Gibbs taking a stuttering and shaking McGee to the _real_ gun range while leaving Ziva to her own devices. She had to learn for another test, anyway. At least that what she should be doing. She had whined more than once that she needed time for that, instead of finishing her paperwork.

Vance had joined Gibbs in the observation room, witnessing how DiNozzo closed yet another case. The young man looked tired and worn out, which could be explained by him spending the past days in the office. But Vance also knew what had happened to his friend, had observed the agent, as he was checking his phone more often than normal, sending messages back in a speed that Leon could only dream of ever achieving, sometimes looking rather worried, while starting to smile softly during the past day when looking at his texts.

The press conference to announce that Anthony Edward Stark had been injured while saving his CEO’s life had been held the day after the entire incident by a calm and collected Pepper Potts. The rather detailed list of injuries, including a collapsed lung, as well as the prognosis of full recovery made the director wonder what they _didn’t_ release. And why DiNozzo didn’t request leave to visit his friend.

There were a few reports of Iron Man chasing fire people and annihilating them. Since Stark was in the hospital, nobody really believed those, though. Especially, since nobody could prove what they had seen, there were no videos, no pictures, no nothing, and when they claimed that somebody had wiped their facebook/twitter/whatever-else accounts _and_ cell-phones, they were labelled crazy. After all, the internet didn’t forget anything, right?

It also made those tin foil hat wearing people start to spin one or the other conspiracy theory that Tony Stark had invented S.K.Y.N.E.T. and was controlling all of them already.

Vance had had laughed heartily about that. StarkPhones and Pads were little masterpieces, to that he could agree. But a self-aware artificial intelligence? Yeah, sure.

“Did the other two contribute anything substantial to solve the case?” he asked, grinning as DiNozzo did not stop at the crime at hand, but also made the buffoon blab out his rather illegal methods of lending money, most probably solving a few more crimes in the process.

Gibbs also did not avert his gaze from the one-way mirror.

“Abs ran the prints. Ducky told me a story I didn’t know yet. Palmer mastered his first solo autopsy. DiNozzo did the rest of the work. Tell me again why I’m keeping them, Leon?”

Vance’s smile faded as he continued looking at the younger man on the other side of the mirror.

“I already told you two days ago, Jethro.”

He’d had to. When Leroy Jethro Gibbs marched into your office and demanded answers it was not that easy (read: impossible) to blow him off. And actually, Leon had thought the agent would realize that something was off earlier.

***

 

_Two days ago…_

Gibbs was just walking down the stairs from MTAC when he heard David bragging again about the prowess of her new boyfriend. He had heard rumors, his source of what happened behind his back on his team, Rick Balboa, making a rather disgusted face when retelling into what detail the former Mossad agent went when trying to get a reaction out of Tony.

DiNozzo obviously rarely reacted at all, staying professional and on business. In the past few days something had been off with the younger man, though, and obviously, this time the former Mossad officer had chosen the possibly worst moment to taunt him. She’d cornered him at his desk, with McGee leaning against hers, both of them unaware of their boss heading back to the bullpen. DiNozzo most of the time had a 7th sense for Gibbs’ whereabouts, mostly to keep himself out of head slapping distance, his eyes briefly flitting to the stairs. He expected Tony to make a somewhat crude joke before returning to work to Ziva telling him about her love life and how her new boyfriend Michael greeted her with a quickie almost every day.

Now, this was something Gibbs himself did not necessarily want to know, but Tony’s reaction had been so sharp and biting that it also surprised the older agent.

“Ya know, there’s two reasons for a quickie, Officer David. One of them is that you cannot wait for it.” DiNozzo trained those green eyes at the woman, his face not showing any emotions as he waited for her to take the bait, his tone making it clear that it was not meant as a joke.

Of course she did fall for it, line, hook, and sinker.

“And what might be the second reason, _agent_ DiNozzo?” she asked, that smirk of which she thought it was sexy and mysterious trained at her colleague. She did not even realize that he was not joking back and that she was heading for a reply she most probably would not like.

Well. Her problem.

DiNozzo just glared at her.

“That you cannot wait for it to be over”, was what DiNozzo said, still glaring at her, the corners of his mouth not moving in the slightest to indicate the smirk everybody was waiting for. His nostrils flared, as if he had smelt something bad, having Gibbs question himself since when he paid that close attention to his senior agent’s nose.

Ziva, on the other hand, this time understood exactly what he meant, gritting her teeth. She obviously also hadn’t had enough, yet, approaching the topic from a different angle now, directly aiming for the SFA’s feelings.

“Oh, Tony, why can’t you just show some joy for the people who can make a relationship work? You’re obviously not made for pure love, but that’s no reason to be so rude about our carnal pleasures. Yes, I am unavailable now, so you should stop pining, but there are certain women who would take even…”

DiNozzo had gotten up from his chair and in her face by leaning over his desk before she could finish this particularly rude sentence, making the ex-Mossad officer take a step back.

“Now listen, David, if you don’t get nice, I’ll give you blunt”, he growled, his hand crashing down on his table. “I don’t care _whom_ or _what_ you fuck”, he spat, a side glance straying to McGee who seemed to shrink in his place only by this brief eye contact. “I care even less about _who_ or _what_ fucks _you_ on your father’s orders. I don’t want to hear about it. I don’t want to talk to you about anything else than work. If you cannot do this, feel free to find another job.”

There it was, the disgust in DiNozzo’s voice, this tone he saved for child molesters, rapists, and that spider that kept invading his locker on a regular basis, hiding her nest of baby-spiders in there. Gibbs had watched the entire thing, now hurrying down the last few steps as David got into a more defensive stance, her hands resting on her hips.

“As if the director does not know that I am a lot more valuable to the team than you are!”

Tony was spared an answer by Gibbs’ angry bellow of “Ya think?!” The younger woman spun around, once more betrayed by her self-proclaimed Ninja abilities. Her lead agent was moving right in front of DiNozzo, making her move back towards her desk, almost bumping into a quivering McGee.

“Wanna go and find out?” He growled, thinking about his own musings only a minute ago, puppy protection and whatnot. He got a shocked stare and a miniscule headshake as answer.

“Agent DiNozzo told you multiple times that he was not interested in the things you do in your private life. I expect you to respect that. I expect both of you to respect your senior agent, your superior agent, even though I cannot believe that I even have to say this. Both of you are treading a very thin line in the moment. Your FLETC reports are so bad that I could kick you off the training program without any further explanation, David. Both of you still can’t process a crime scene without being told what to do, and both of you refuse to learn something from people who know how it’s done. Tony and I are doing all the work, including correcting and grading your homework!”

Well, since he was already at it, and it obviously had worked wonders on Abby’s attitude, why should he stop reaming those two? Yeah, maybe he shouldn’t have done it that publicly, but by now he wasn’t that sure that they would understand anything else.

“Both of you will attend some more courses, Vance already approved, so don’t even try whining. McGee, I’ll see you at the gun-range at 14:00. David, didn’t you need some time to learn for a test? You’re both due for Maryland tomorrow 09:00. Cynthia has your traveling info.”

If it was bravery or pure stupidity, he did not know, but McGee did actually speak up.

“B-but the case, boss…?”

The Gibbs-glare now hit him, making the younger man squirm again.

“The case? The case to which you two contributed _nothing_ until now? Will be handled by the MCRT. DiNozzo and I did well enough without anyone else for almost two years, why should we need dead weight slowing us down? Now go and get your travelling info”, he repeated, watching them as they scrambled away, before breathing out a belly deep sigh and turning around to DiNozzo.

The younger man was still flushed with anger, his hand cramping around his cellphone as he watched the two miscreants hurry up the stairs before training his eyes on his lead agent.

“I… uh… Abby called… gun was wiped down, magazine and remaining bullets weren’t. She’ll be running the prints and wanted to call when she knows more…”, he started his sitrep, taking a deep breath, the fingers around the cellphone still flexing, the other hand moving up to comb through his hair.

“You had lunch yet? I can wait for Abby’s call.” Unconsciously, Gibbs was mirroring the other agent’s gesture. He really sucked at this communication thing. Tony spoke Gibbs, most of the time, though. He’d hopefully understand that this somehow was his boss’ way around rule #6 for all the things that had happened since… he’d been blown up on that fricking ship. Well, at least the start of pretending not to apologize while he wanted to do nothing more.

Sometimes his own rules were really stupid.

DiNozzo didn’t smile the way he used to when Gibbs was completely on his side and he had all of his attention. He nodded, though, his features softening.

“I could eat, Boss”, was what he said, before he hurriedly left, not wanting to embarrass Gibbs by witnessing how the older man realized that the _Boss_ had slipped off his lips for the first time in months.

Gibbs indeed realized the _Boss,_ something that made him desperately try to hide a smile. He also realized that something in Tony confronting Ziva had not made it to her mind, but definitely had rattled something in his. First of all, he had glared at McGee when telling her he did not care about her sex-buddies.

It wasn’t until McGee nervously plopped down on his seat and David announced that she would notify her father of her ghastly treatment by the NCIS that he realized that Tony had brought up Eli David when telling her that he did not want to know about her escapades, and the wheels inside his head started turning. What did DiNozzo know that he didn’t?

Knowing that his SFA would not stray far, after all he was waiting for that info from Abby, even though Gibbs had said he would take it, the lead agent sent both of his other agents home to pack, ignoring the relieved sigh by McGee who was glad about having evaded another humiliating shooting lesson from his boss. He waited until both of them had left before he went to search for his second in command.

#### ***

 

_Still two days ago_

He did not have to look for long to find his SFA. Tony had made it as far as it took to get to the snack automates, had taken a seat on the window sill instead of a chair and was resting his head against the cold glass as he closed his eyes against the rare gleam of sun at this time of the year.

He had already devoured the sandwich he got from the machine, the empty wrapper placed on a chair right next to him, nursing a bottle of water, his thumb ghosting over the screen of his phone as he readjusted the position of his head against the window.

Just when Gibbs thought about how to catch the younger man’s attention, he lifted his phone, one of these new monstrosities without keys. McGee had been pouting for days when he realized that Tony had had that particular StarkPhone long before he could brag with his newest acquisition.

“Hey… it’s me…”

Turning his face into the sun again, DiNozzo was listening to the person he had called.

“I just wanted to hear your voice… I’m not interrupting any treatment, right?”

Gibbs mentally scolded himself for standing there, listening to the younger agent’s call but somehow also could not make himself leave. Tony had been so closed off lately; there were not even rumors in the gossip mill – which was weird, because not even the ones he had started ages ago were being told anymore…

“Nah, it’s just been one of those days all week… what do you mean by they already have you walking?!”

Taking another sip from his bottle, DiNozzo seemed a little livelier than a few moments ago, his voice getting louder.

“But the surgery was only two days ago! That’s good, right? That’s great!”

Surgery, huh? Well, that explained at least why DiNozzo had been even more closed off in the past few days than before. It also explained his lack of patience for David today if he was secretly worrying for someone.

“I think it’s totally okay that you’re completely bummed after a trip to the toilet after major cardiothoracic surgery. Don’t overdo it, yeah?”

The person at the other end of the line was talking again while DiNozzo repositioned his head against the window once more, seeking for another cool spot.

“Headache… Mossad chick’s been after me the entire morning, first trying to head slap me, then annoying me with her Mossad boyfriend… Vance really owes me for putting up with them…”

Taking a step back, Gibbs watched the younger agent put his bottle in front of him on the window sill before running a hand over his forehead. Vance, huh?

“Nah, I’ll just pay Ducky a visit later – he knows what to give me that doesn’t make me too loopy. I’m on my lunch break, officially and Gibbs-approved, and I found a place in the sun. Not gonna move till that bottle’s empty… or that stupid cloud up there fucks up my perfect little break. Then I might go and hang out on Delores’ couch for a while.”

Delores, huh? Well, that at least explained why the head of HR had sent him a nearly gibbsian death glare. This time he really turned to leave, hearing Tony laugh into his cellphone.

“Yeah, they’re fine, but I think that Kate the fish actually is a boy, and not a girl…”

Gibbs frowned a little at this, but the wheels were still turning. McGee and Ziva were involved in something. Vance knew. And DiNozzo knew enough to tolerate their behavior towards him and not force their leave from the team. And Ziva’s boyfriend and her father also were involved.

Well, it seemed like Vance would get a second visit today.

#### ***

 

  _Still two days ago..._

Cynthia simply pushed a button on her desk that would notify her boss – for more there was rarely time when agent Gibbs flew in on his broom with a short “He in?” Of course _he_ was in, otherwise the lead agent of the MCRT would not even head up to the director’s office. Sometimes, though, she wished that he would bump his head against a locked door, if only once. She might not survive the following laughing fit, but maybe it would be worth it?

Gibbs this time really got loud, she could hear him yell through the door. The noise died down pretty soon, though, making the director’s PA wonder what they had cooked up this time that involved agent DiNozzo, and who dared not telling agent Gibbs. The loyal Saint Bernard joke about the younger man once had fit so well, and sometimes it still did. But Gibbs had been just as loyal to Tony, at least before he’d suffered from amnesia. Sometimes she wondered if he even remembered his special connection with the former detective from Baltimore, if he knew that _he_ had brought him here, keeping the obviously pining young man at an arm’s length for reasons she only understood after she’d heard of the first Mrs. Gibbs.

When Vance notified her that he wouldn’t take any calls for the next 30 minutes, she at least knew that her boss had survived Hurricane Gibbs breezing into his office, displeased once more for whatever reason.

And Gibbs had been displeased. Fucking pissed might be a more accurate description.

So, Ziva had lost her security clearance. That was nothing new to him, he still wondered why she had had one right from the beginning, but then, Jen had vouched for her, so he had not really thought about it, still grieving for Kate, still trying to cope with the entire situation.

And again, DiNozzo had been the one who tried to figure out why the heck they now had a Mossad-liaison working on crime scenes. He had sniffed out the entire Ari thing in no time, and, distrustful as he was by default started digging deeper.

He had notified Shepard that their new liaison was sticking her nose in things that were not her business, being shushed immediately by Jen. Around that time he’d become the most annoying around Ziva, keeping her off balance, unknowingly fucking up some of her well-planned deceptions to her employer to provide her former employer with critical information. Around that time the plans to ostracize Tony had started.

“He has noted down a lot after Shepard told him that Ziva was none of _his_ business and that his job was to be your good little lap dog and to keep you in line. He couldn’t really prove what she did, since even the director was working against him. When he took over team lead, it got worse. Shepard used him for the undercover op, and he was shunned by his own team, even Sciuto and Mallard were unknowingly contributing.”

“Why didn’t he come to me right from the beginning?” DiNozzo came running because of a paper cut if he needed some attention (which, secretly, always had amused Gibbs to no end, sometimes indulging the younger man). Why…? Why didn’t he trust him enough to…?

“You had just lost agent Todd. Ziva saved your life. Jennifer knew her and was her friend. What do you think?”

Leaning back on the couch, the agent sighed.

“He thought I wouldn’t believe him if he had no prove. And then… I forgot…” Looking at the director, Gibbs frowned. “Why did you? Believe him, I mean. You only joined the DiNozzo fan club a few months ago.”

Vance’s sincere gaze strayed to his window, mirroring Gibbs’ position on his sofa, folding his hands on his stomach.

“A carefully planned op was blown. Insiders claimed the mole was from here. David did not have security clearance back then…”, he started, shaking his head about how well Mossad had planted their mole in the intestines of NCIS. A mole that, thankfully, still was doing her best to _avoid_ getting back her clearance with her behavior lately.

“But McGee has”, Gibbs deduced, not even needing to see Vance nod.

“And Tony figured it out.”

Vance nodded again.

“She… let’s say she pays with sexual favors, and I honestly don’t know whether he’s too bummed out to keep her from using his computer afterwards, or if he’s involved and just acts like that. We bugged their flats, computers, cell phones, and God, does she overplay it…”

“TMI, Leon”, was what Gibbs growled at that, receiving a side glance from the director.

“Actually, it’s not. If I’m reading you in, I’ll do it thoroughly, and you will hear that McGee is nearly mute while David is screaming like a banshee while they’re at it. He stays in bed afterwards, and she’s rummaging around in the apartment, using his clearance to get to information and then forwards it…”

It just got him another frown from the MCRT lead agent who was starting to really doubt his own gut. Yeah, something was off with David and McGee, but he’d appointed it to some childish jealousy of DiNozzo for whatever reason in combination with the realization that both of them were not really made for their current jobs.

“How does Rivkin fit into the entire scenario?” he then asked, catching Vance off guard.

“She riled DiNozzo earlier, trying to shove in his face how she manages to maintain a relationship while he could not even find a hooker. He told her he didn’t care who mounts her on her father’s orders. I guess she missed that, because she was too miffed that he really was not interested, neither in her sex life, nor in her”, Gibbs explained, too tired of this entire charade to play games of hide and seek the info for now.

Vance obviously was not tired of the game, yet.

“Why do you think she is still working here, and not already sitting in GTMO?”

Those ice blue eyes were staring at him, he could almost hear the _click_ in the other man’s brain when finally the puzzle pieces came together.

“You’re feeding her false information.” Of course they were, exploiting the situation the best they could. It was only a matter of time once one mole had been found out for another one to take their place and the entire game would begin anew. By keeping her, they had control over what the other side knew.

“Somebody got suspicious and sent Rivkin”, he then added, having Vance nod.

“ _Our_ mole in Mossad said he’s directly connected with the director. I’m actually glad that she’s in FLETC for the next few days. Another mission blowing up in her face might make them even more suspicious.”

“Does DiNozzo have sufficient backup?” The op hunting the frog had been bad enough, Gibbs was still asking himself why DiNozzo had even taken it. Unsanctioned (but he had not known that), no backup at all, and Jen had him do his day job in addition to keep the horror twins in check.

“Dorneget’s been partially read in, but he’s still on sick leave. Tony has a hacker on the hand that leaves McGee in the dust. Up to now not even Rivkin found out that her flat is bugged. That guy sure wants to get done with saying hello before asking her all kinds of things, and she does not even get it that she’s being interrogated.”

Gibbs rolled his eyes at this piece of information.

Leon grinned.

“TMI?”

“Still trying to shake off the mental image of her and the Elf lord. Tony needs to know that I know. We’re not keeping this from him. Ziva will go for _him_ when this thing blows up in her face.”

This had been the sum-up of the past months. Tony, the scape goat, the whipping boy of the team. And he had just watched how they treated him.

Now he was really sure where his loyalties should be.

And ashamed that it took him so long to figure this out.

“Why didn’t you tell me right from the beginning? Two members of my team commit high treason and you don’t trust me enough to help with the op?” Yes, that also bugged him.

Leon simply looked at him.

“Rule number four.”

This got him another pair of rolled eyes.

“Why the fuck does suddenly everybody live by _my_ rules?!”

#### ***

 

_Back to the present day…_

Gibbs stood at the window overseeing the parking lot, once more secretly watching his second in command as he left the building.

Once their suspect had confessed more or less every crime he had ever committed simply because he was not the smartest cookie in the jar, the rest of the day had moved on rather quickly.

DiNozzo had typed his report, fiddling with his phone every now and then, before getting ready to leave. They’d both have the next day off, having spent the last few days at the Navy Yard more or less 24/7.

“Gotta be somewhere, DiNozzo?” he asked, trying to keep his usual snark out of his voice after the younger man had checked his phone for the 20iest time in the past five minutes.

He got a deer in the headlights glance back, but the lead agent just had cocked his head, looking at his SFA. Obviously, that still worked.

“Looking up flights to LA, Boss… friend of mine had a… really nasty accident. Getting back to the paperwork now…”

Gibbs just continued watching his SFA, could see how he once again would put his own needs back because he thought his lead agent had a different idea of spending his day off, mentally already starting to work on a heap of cold cases… and that was when he asked himself when he gave up having a life outside of NCIS? He had told Tony that Vance had read him in, and then both of them dug back into their files. If not for watering some plants and having to heat the house to safe his valves from bursting in winter, he would hardly go home at all. And the younger man also had started living at the Navy Yard in the past few days…

“You done with your report?” he therefore asked after a moment, not wishing this empty life on anyone. DiNozzo nodded.

“The transcript from the interrogation still needs to be done and he actually gave enough leads to at least seven more crimes he committed, so…”

“I’ll take care of the transcript. Take the day after tomorrow off, too. We’re on cold cases for now, being two people short. Dorneget’s back on desk duty next week.”

All he got was a confused look, making him roll his eyes and sigh.

“That was English for _Get out of here and visit your friend before I change my mind_ in case you didn’t notice, DiNozzo!” the older man barked, doing his best not to laugh when his SFA hastily grabbed his stuff and hightailed out of the bullpen with a “Thanks, Boss” tossed into the room.

He was not sure why he moved to the window, watching DiNozzo jump into a rather nondescript car and driving off the yard. The past few months had been confusing enough, sometimes he was missing the younger man goofing around to loosen the atmosphere. When had the environment in his team become this hostile? Why had he not done anything against it?

Balboa didn’t stage whisper this time. His entire face spelled _Softie_ when he grinned at the MCRT lead agent from the other end of the room. Gibbs simply ignored the other man and returned to his desk, focusing on his computer. Contrary to popular belief he actually was able to do his job using those machines.

It was just less annoying having other people do the research and the paper work.

#### ***

 

J.A.R.V.I.S. had sent a Quinjet, sparing him the troubles of getting a flight and having to travel to the hospital at Average Joe’s speed. He could see a bunch of people who chose to camp outside the building, most of them paparazzi who just waited to get the best shot of the heavily injured Tony Stark leaving the hospital. He was praying for a sudden snowstorm in Malibu to just get rid of them.

The jet landed on the helipad, and Dino slipped into the building more or less unnoticed, accompanied by a guy from the security who had strict orders by _Mr. Jarvis_ to lead him directly to Mr. Stark’s room.

He was prepared for a lot, mostly for finding his boyfriend pale and exhausted, hooked up to all sorts of cables and hoses, most probably asleep. Not that he cared, he’d be happy sitting right next to the bed on a chair, watching T breathe whilst holding his hand.

He had not expected to be greeted by some really loud voices, it actually sounded a lot like the catfights T and the _lovely_ Miss Potts got in every now and then, mostly because she was unhappy with something T had done – most of the time the engineer even deserved being yelled at.

So when Dino opened the door he was not really surprised by the sight of his flushed and angry boyfriend who indeed was hooked up to all sorts of machines and cables, staring at an equally flushed and angry Pepper who didn’t look as neat and sorted as she usually did, glaring at her head of R&D.

Dino was wondering why not a bunch of highly qualified doctors stormed the room, T’s heartrate and the hysterical beeping of the corresponding machine should have made a lot of people nervous. The two brawlers simply continued staring at each other.

It was the inventor who spotted his boyfriend first.

“Oh, finally somebody with a brain! Tell her to move her ass out of my hospital room, take a shower, throw on something else than these ratty yoga pants and then go and make up with Phil, for heaven’s sake!”

Dino didn’t get any further with his answer than “Uh…” before the redhead replied, voice still loud and shrill, her eyes not leaving the man in the bed.

“And I told you that it’s too dangerous…!”

Stark interrupted her.

“We’ve been arguing for half an hour now, for fuck’s sake! I’d say if you didn’t blow up the building by now, we’re pretty safe, and so’s your boyfriend who did not deserve to be dumped without any further explanation!!!”

Dino wanted to say that arguing with a person fresh out of cardiothoracic surgery also wasn’t the best idea, the words dying on his tongue when the fiery redhead finally turned around to their new visitor.

Fiery, indeed.

The orange glow in her eyes definitely was something new.


	9. Better a diamond with a flaw than a pebble without (Confucius)

Had there ever been a person to establish a chart on how much fussing was appropriate for a certain kind of injury?

One of these _from 1 to 10, how much fussing is needed?_ things _, with_ 10 being fussing as an Olympic discipline, and 1 equaling _meh, get over it!?_

Paper cuts. A paper cut would reach a 10 on that scale. It needed copious amounts of fussing. That, and kisses from at least 10 beautiful women to properly heal.

The sniffles… would equal a 9.5, then. After all, dying of the man-flu was to be taken seriously, lots of whining was required to be appropriately mourned after having succumbed to that traitorous disease. No kisses, though, at least not from beautiful women. Those would stay away from snotty noses, and the _significant other_ already had been infected, anyway.

Then, there were the more mundane, the manly types of injuries, like… hitting your thumb with a hammer, or cutting yourself with a kitchen knife or a razor. Those simply required the creation of a blood trail through the entire flat, taking every unnecessary detour one could think of before finally reaching the bathroom to adequately treat the war wound with a band aid sized big enough to also bandage the entire limb. Well, unless it was the razor, then you already were in the bathroom, so no blood trail. Medium fussing plus a battle scar to show off. Totally deserved a 5.

Gunshot wounds. Huh. Well, those ranged from _I’m fine_ to _Just a through and through, no biggie_ , equaling a 3 or a 4 on the scale, depending whether the bullet just grazed you or actually hit the target. Heroes didn’t need much fussing, plus another battle scar to show off.

The reaction to the pneumonic plague had been _I’m fine, breathing’s a bit hard in the moment, but I’ve orders not to die so I won’t._ Was that a 1 or a 2?

And how the heck did you rate being blown up by your own bomb, shrapnel wounds, into that schematic? Having your chest carved open while wide awake, regaining consciousness with a feeding tube down your throat and a fucking electromagnet where once your breast bone was?! How did being tortured fit in there? Dying from heavy metal poisoning? Almost falling to your death first from your own building and then from a portal into outta space?! How the hell did you fit in almost being barbequed alive, almost suffocating from a collapsed lung in???

Tony DiNozzo had not said much since fetching his boyfriend from the airport. He was thrilled to have T back, of course, but he was not so sure if the engineer had forced his release from the hospital, if he was jeopardizing his convalescence because he was too stubborn to admit that he was far from being back to a 100%.

The way the shorter man had climbed into the car, all stiff and careful movements, it spoke volumes. He did not contradict Dino carrying MARK V, and once they had reached their flat it was rather clear that T’s first and maybe final destination would be either the couch or the bedroom.

On the other hand… the lack of contradiction from both the _lovely_ Miss Potts as well as J.A.R.V.I.S. to T’s travel plans not even two weeks after his surgery in addition to outpatient rehab measures that had been organized and planned at a hospital here in DC made him hope that T was not overdoing it.

His prognosis was actually pretty great. The casing of the reactor had put pressure on his lungs, making T slightly asthmatic. Breathing was easier now, and the dull, perpetual pain from that foreign object was gone. They had talked about all of this, about the scar on T’s ass to get skin for a transplant to cover the hole where the reactor had been, God, they had talked for hours every day, and now, as he climbed up the stairs towards their flat right behind T, MARK V in hand, Dino did not really know what to say.

So he just stashed the suitcase in the hallway right next to the shoe shelf where it always stood. He followed T into the kitchen like a shadow, getting himself some apple juice and asking whether they should order something for Dinner.

They ordered pizza instead of healthy food, both not really hungry, and before long T declared that he was tired. Dino followed him into the bathroom, once more thinking about his _how much should I fuss_ scale. Did T even want a shadow, following him everywhere, afraid that… something… would happen the moment he let him out of his eyes?

He got a few confused glances as he stood there, his eyes glued to the new scar, still so fresh and by far nicer and… well, looking less life-threatening than he’d assumed. T had always been self-conscious about the reactor, didn’t like having it touched, most probably because of Stane ripping it out of there…

Oh God, Stane… how did that incident fit in his scale?!?

By then, T had decided to reduce his grooming rituals to a cat’s lick, brushing his teeth and combing his fingers through his hair and the full beard that would undergo appropriate trimming on another day. He slipped on his pajama and then turned to his boyfriend, taking the towel that the NCIS agent was strangling ever since they had entered the bathroom out of his hands and putting it back on the towel rail. Then he reached out, placing both of his hands on the other man’s cheeks and made Dino look at him.

“Are you ok?”

Was he ok? He had thought he was, he had seen T in the hospital, they had joked around, there had been kisses, hugs (even though really carefully), hour-long phone calls every night once Dino was back in DC. They had talked about what had happened. It was Dino who finally had talked the _lovely_ Miss Potts into talking to Phil and explaining why she had tried dumping him during one of their breaks in the cafeteria while T had to undergo another battery of tests and refused to have any audience, _significant other_ included.

He had seen the scar… he’d seen both of them, also the one on T’s ass, appropriately teasing the other man about it.

Why the hell was he freaking out _now?_

“Dino?”

Worried brown eyes caught his, and wasn’t it him who should be worried? T was the one who almost died, an Asgardian God rushing to his side and having to save his life.

“I… I was too slow… reached them too late… Tony was out of the suit, already on the ground, bleeding, and… and…” Pepper had told him, her fingers cramping around her cup, a tear rolling down her cheek.

“I went for the heart then. Fucker couldn’t regrow that. And then I just remember screaming for help and Loki appearing right next to me.”

For that, Dino would have to thank Loki on his knees should he ever meet him. The Prince had left for Asgard, though, after ensuring that _Anthony_ would be as well as he could be, refusing to leave the hospital for the first two days, just like Pepper. Obviously, Odin was really desperate to get the Bifrost working again, and used previous misdeeds as well as Thor’s puppy-dog _please help me_ look as a means to blackmail the young God into coming back to the realm eternal.

“Dino… please, talk to me”, T was pleading by now, startling him out of his thoughts. What should he say?

“You almost died”, was what he blurted out, his fingers shaking as he reached out, hand stopping midair, right in front of T’s chest.

He only peripherally realized that T made him change into a shirt and some fresh boxers, urging him to also brush his teeth before guiding him into their bedroom, staring a little longer than he wanted at the heap of additional blankets that were rolled up on his side of the bed.

“Okay, c’mon, get in…”

Dino only noticed that he had been maneuvered into bed with the other man when T started tugging, looping his arms around him and pulling him close until his head rested against the smaller man’s shoulder. He then took Dino’s hand and placed it right over his heart, over the scar… over… over…

“I’m fine”, he said, his hand firmly holding Dino’s where he had placed it, refusing to let it go until Dino finally relaxed a bit, hiding his head in the crook of T’s neck.

“And yeah… I almost died… and I’m sorry for that. I’m sorry that I put you through that, and that most probably it will happen again. Maybe I’ll tease Rogers too much at some point and he’ll snap… or some other super villain is coming after me. Then, there’s still Thanos…”

It was not often that T regretted making the suit, becoming a superhero. Putting the bad sides that came with all of that on Dino, though…

“I’m so sorry”, he sighed, burying his nose in his boyfriend’s soft hair, his fingers still locked with the other man’s over his heart.

“’m sorry for freaking out… must be the same for you every time I leave the Navy Yard hunting for the bad guys… I just thought… the suit… I thought with the suit…” Shifting into a more comfortable position, Dino pulled up the blankets around them, linking his legs with T’s.

“I thought you were invincible”, he whispered.

Yeah… T himself had thought that at some point. Palladium poisoning had put a pretty blunt stop on those thoughts.

“It’s gonna be a while before I can even think about climbing into the suit again. And… I’ve been thinking about reducing that already before this happened. I don’t wanna hunt terrorists. I wanted to hunt down my weapons, I wanted to save our planet. I didn’t sign up for playing world police. We need some regulations, Rogers wants to call for an assemble every time he hears of a bank robbery. No matter where it is. That’s not what the Avengers are for. Thanos, sure. Saving Peps, definitely. I’m not a cop, though. Neither are they. They’re spies, a physicist, Rogers, as far as I know, never really had a job.”

“He was a cheerleader for the USO tours”, Dino countered, and both of them snorted at that. This for sure would be another way to annoy the super soldier should he strain T’s nerves the next time.

“So… what does that mean? You want to quit the Avengers?” Dino asked then. T shrugged.

“I don’t know. We were never planned to be what they’re trying to make us. The Avengers were a last resort, should anything else fail sort of thing. For… alien invasions… the Thanos situation. S.H.I.E.L.D. has their own agents, investigating paranormal bullshit, and every time I get involved I feel like entering the X files. The only reason that I didn’t already step down was that Rogers would try to step up and lead the team. And I don’t want to even think about that.”

“He still bugging everyone about his former army friend?” Yeah, technically that was top secret, and nobody was supposed to know. But right after the battle of New York and the WSC sending a nuke after them, Tony Stark had been beyond pissed and hacked the agency. And talked to Dino about all the BS he was going through with S.H.I.E.L.D..

It took J.A.R.V.I.S. half a day to summarize everything that might be a reasonable threat to his creator – starting with H.Y.D.R.A. being less dead than everybody assumed.

Alexander Pierce had committed suicide before they could apprehend him.

Nick Fury had to live up to his mistakes. The information had been there. On the servers of S.H.I.E.L.D.. Nobody knew if he simply didn’t care, or if he was more involved than anyone wanted to assume. The bastard still remained silent.

Sergeant Barnes… the Winter Soldier… It had taken T two days and a bottle of Jack (plus Pepper hovering over him when he prayed to the porcelain god afterwards) to not want to destroy everything within reach because Edwin Jarvis and his parents had to die because those assholes were as active as always and nobody cared or realized it.

They, Phil and Tony, had kept Rogers out of the loop after figuring out that Barnes had been his _Bucky_. It was one of Phil’s teams that found the base where the Winter Soldier had been kept in cryostasis. It was abandoned…no people, lots of dust, a few rats (of course), no electricity.

Nothing to run the life support systems of the cryo chamber.

Contrary to the layman’s belief, you did not simply freeze and defrost people. Regular freezing was too slow, the ice crystals forming out of the water in the body would destroy cells. Whoever had developed the method to snap-freeze people should receive an award… well, had he or she not decided to work for murderers plotting world domination.

Slowly defrosting a body would be just as detrimental. It would die long before it reached a viable temperature.

And that was what had happened to Sergeant Barnes. The body was already decomposing for quite a while when it was found, they could not really tell whether it had been an accident during defrosting, or if he’d simply been left there, nobody caring what happened to him.

Rogers didn’t believe it was Barnes when Coulson told him.

“He’s as stubborn as a mule. And only sees what he wants to see.”

“Well… then it’s good he has someone who rubs his nose in it when he’s an asshole, huh?” Letting go off T’s hand, Dino lifted his arm, caressing his fingers over the other man’s cheek, making him turn his head, so he could brush his lips over the engineer’s.

“I think my freak out’s over.”

T reciprocated Dino’s tender peck, smiling when the agent started crawling his fingers through his beard. He still wanted the goatee™ back, but maybe he’d indulge Dino for a while, grinning about the slight facial hair/lack of facial hair kink his boyfriend seemed to have.

“If anybody has the right to freak out, it’s you, Dino”, T responded, bumping his nose against his boyfriend’s, getting another peck in return.

“Significant other, huh?”

“Yep.”

They simply smiled at each other, Dino’s fingers still carding through the wiry hair on T’s cheek. It would take him some time to get over the need to lock up T somewhere safe. Having him here, at home, being able to touch, to cuddle, that was really helping, as long as he didn’t think too much about his _how much should I fuss_ scale.

T was on sick leave, would have to do some rehab, was banned from even thinking about using the suit for the foreseeable future with the prosthetics in his chest. Christmas was around the corner, and before long everything would be back to normal. At least that was what both of them hoped.

Cuddling even closer, Dino reached over T to switch off the light.

“I like that. I don’t think I’ve ever been anybody’s significant other before.” Not even Wendy’s. It had really hurt back then when she left him, when she’d said yes when he proposed and suddenly did not to want to spend her life with him anymore.

In the end it was better that way. Maybe Pepper had been right? Maybe they _had_ been together all the time, and just didn’t want to see it?

T chuckled as Dino nuzzled against his neck, catching his hand again and positioning it over his heart.

“Yeah. I like that, too.”

Dino’s nose once more was grazing the side of his neck, making T grin even more. Somebody really liked the beard, huh?

“You’re going to get rid of the wood gnome looks, though, right?” was what Dino asked next.

They had to postpone sleeping then, because T was laughing so hard that he started hiccupping.

Now, where did you put that on the fussing-scale?


	10. Whosoever is delighted in solitude is either a wild beast or a God (Aristotle)

At first, Loki had thought that Fandral was visiting the building where they had set up the headquarters for the reconstruction of the Bifrost for some ulterior motives, wanting to get into the younger prince’s good graces again for some other reason than simply restoring their more than strained friendship.

He also had thought of himself that he would brush off the older God, he did not need anyone on Asgard, especially not those traitors who were clinging to Thor’s coat tails even after he had almost started a war over a prank. Volstagg, Hogun, and Sif kept as far away from him far as they could, throwing him scathing glances, yet not daring to say anything openly. It might not end as well for them as breaking Loki’s orders of not going to rescue Thor when Odin once more conveniently succumbed to Odin-sleep and left his second son with an identity crisis and a court that despised him for no other reason than having a brain and using it.

The blonde swordsman seemed to take a different turn on redeeming himself – by actually doing things to redeem himself and not just hope everything would be swept under a rug and forgotten, eventually.

It was Frigga who had made it exceptionally clear during his trial that _she_ had bestowed the throne upon Loki, that he was following _his father’s orders_ of exiling the Thundergod, and that it were the Warrior’s Three who had broken the law, while the acting regent of Asgard had been well within his rights to send the Destroyer after them.

They did not even touch the topic Laufey with a ten foot pole, and Loki was rather grateful for not having to discuss the demise of the ruler of Jotunheim. Did anybody even know that the Frost Giant had been on Asgard personally, trying to end a feud so old that not even Odin could recall all the details anymore by killing the All-Father?

Thor actually had received another, public, slap on the wrist for trying to start a war, and it was heavily hinted that everybody who had been involved in the entire drama should keep silent. Nobody wanted to create any more chaos by fueling the ingrained fears the Æsir harbored against the Jotnar. So, once more, Thor and his friends were allowed to take the easy way out of a disaster they had created. And Loki, once more, was at the other end of scathing insinuations that all of this was just a plot to gain power.

The young God simply stopped hanging out with them, then. They would not change their minds. It was a bit hard evading them because Frigga (and Odin, by extension) was pretty keen on showing everyone that he was still a part of the family, praising his return and his ways to save Midgard from the rise of the Mad Titan.

Fandral had changed his ways, though. The swordsman was distancing himself from the others of Thor’s merry band of idiots, actually using a sort of dashing sarcasm that they normally only encountered when interacting with Loki, when he _had to_ interact with them during one of the banquets Frigga kept holding to _re-integrate_ their youngest into their family.

Well. Sometimes also his mother did not really get the point. It would take more than a few dinners to change Loki’s view on _anyone_ on Asgard.

The stupid thing was that Fandral was as charming as always and actually apologized for his behavior. He was also exceptionally curious about the device Loki had brought along from Midgard, blue schematics floating in the air, having all of the architects and engineers swoon over the obviously rather progressive technical possibilities the _insignificant mortals_ had come up with.

It took the mage a rather embarrassing long time to realize that Fandral always came by to visit when a certain young guard was on duty to protect the Lord Stark’s _holoprojector_ with the rudimentary AI that allowed interaction with the construction plans without needing to have any knowledge of the programming language.

Loki surprised himself by feeling slightly disappointed that he was not the object of desire – but then, he had never lived up to the ideal of what an Ås deemed a suitable mate. Not that young Aron Lambisson did, at least not for Fandral, a _male_ warrior. He would make the perfect spouse for one of the maids at court. He would have to be very careful should he give in to Fandral’s courting – being dismissed from the royal guard would be one of his smallest worries should come out that he was _argr_.

It took him two days of watching those two to get over this feeling, watching how Fandral inconspicuously invited the young guard for a tankard of mead after accompanying Loki to his chambers in the palace and making sure that _Anthony’s_ device was safely stored away. They were a nice couple, and the thought of what they might do after sharing some mead had the young God blushing furiously.

Damn _Anthony_ and his innuendoes. Damn J.A.R.V.I.S. and his explanations of how same-sex relationships had come to be tolerated and accepted by an increasing number of people, governments, and countries on Midgard. Damn the internet the mortals appeared to only have invented to share videos of copulating people (of course he had only stumbled over these homepages by chance… and had switched them off immediately… more or less... uhm…). There were Realms that were a lot more liberal than Asgard – on Vanaheim or Alfheim this sort of relationship would not have been a problem at all. As a member of the royal family, though, Loki had resigned himself a long time ago to be wed off to some princess from another realm for political reasons, suppressing his real desires.

His Jotun decent now opened some rather interesting possibilities for him – should he ever announce his real ancestry. Being a hermaphrodite he would not break any law should he act on his real preferences. After all, he was _also_ in the possession of the sort of genitalia that allowed him to be with another man.

He had no intention of sharing this information with anybody, though.

Well, anybody except his mother. During the time of his trial they had spent a lot of time together, with Frigga apologizing profoundly for misleading him for most of his life concerning his origin. It had been embarrassing at first, having to talk to her about some rather disturbing observations he had made concerning his own body since the grip of the Jotun warrior had broken the glamor Odin had cast upon him, since he himself had forced the transformation twice, once touching the casket of ancient winters, once using it against Heimdall.

She had been incredibly understanding and supportive, but then, she was of Vanir decent, by far not as stuck up as any Asgardian who for some reason still pretended to believe that sex was only a means to procreate.

It was still disturbing, having to tell her how his hips had gotten wider, requiring his clothes to be altered. Having to ask for ways to deal with monthly belly cramps without actually decapitating someone during a mood swing was also slightly mortifying. It got him a relieved laughter in return, a hug, a kiss to his forehead, and some really good tips, so he could live with it. Apparently, Frigga had thought that his encounter with Thanos had left some rather permanent damages and was glad that he had only these easy to solve problems.

As if he would share what he’d had to endure when in the Other’s clutches with anyone.

With this conversation in mind, he came to the conclusion that he’d rather come to terms with himself before opening another chapter in his life. If there ever was to be another chapter, after all, Thanos was coming, and fighting him would be a suicide mission at best. Being focused on this task, saving the few friends he made, should be his goal for now.

If he survived the entire ordeal, he could start working on the mess that was his personal life. In the meantime, he would at least try to not be suspicious of everyone in his vicinity. It was working well with _Anthony_ and Bruce. Why not at least consider the swordsman being honest about wanting to restore their friendship?

Fandral and Aron made a nice couple, so he started teasing the blonde warrior about finally being tamed by a handsome guard when no-one was around to witness.

The older God was rather shocked by Loki’s acceptance, and his thoughtfulness to keep this quiet. Normally, Fandral did not care if he was caught with anyone, man or woman – he was the enticer in Thor’s merry group of roughnecks, people expected him to charm anyone into his bed.

This still did not mean that a _relationship_ with a man would be accepted. Or that they simply could move somewhere where it would be. A general of Odin’s army, and a royal guard. The court would not let them leave, if only to make an example. Vanaheim would not welcome them because they would have Odin after them.

Thus, Fandral tried not to look too enthused when Loki started telling tales of Midgard and how things were handled there, but discretely started asking questions, mostly about the plans how it was intended to fortify Earth against the treat that was Thanos.

It would only be a matter of time and Fandral would offer his services.

The guard, Aron, most probably would also volunteer.

Loki smiled as he gathered _Anthony’s_ device, cradling it in his arms as he stepped out of the building accompanied by the swordsman and the royal guard. It was nice, actually, having someone who was talking to him because they liked him well enough rather than working with him because they had to and he was the only one who knew how to use the computer.

They would have to cross the market that had formed eons ago at the base of the rainbow bridge to reach the carriage that would take them back to the palace. Trading with the other realms had not been possible after Thor had destroyed the bridge (Yes, Thor. Thor had destroyed it. Not Loki. Even though he might have been the reason Thor had had to destroy it. Maybe. A little bit…).

Fandral was joking how he missed some special treats from Alfheim, having Loki laugh about how much of a whining child the swordsman could be.

In retrospect, he should have known that letting his guard down only slightly, letting himself be distracted like this was fatal. Of course interacting normally with anybody would end disastrously…

He did not even realize that something was amiss until Aron crashed into him, causing him to stumble and fall, and the computer shattered into thousand pieces on the cobblestones.

The next thing he saw was a knife that was pulled out of the guard’s shoulder, being brought down again to be buried in Aron’s thigh, right between the armor plating.

Before the attacker could pull out the dagger and strike for a third time, Loki zapped him, sending the man flying and hoping for Fandral to subdue him as he climbed out from under his guard’s body that had shielded him, and prevented Aron from pulling the dagger out of his leg.

“Don’t… Your femoral artery may have been severed”, he explained, removing one of the leather belts that were keeping his armor in place to tie off the leg above the injury. It sent his mind back to all those weeks ago when he had aided rescuing the Lady Pepper, reminding him of how he had had _Anthony’s_ life in his hands, using his rudimentary knowledge of anatomy to make sure the engineer was still breathing and not bleeding to death until they had reached a hospital.

It had been rather disturbing few hours in the waiting room afterwards, where he, Dr. Banner, Director Coulson and the Lady Pepper could not do anything but wait for any news from the operation room that J.A.R.V.I.S. had raided while having a legion of Iron Men secure the entire building… Oh Norns, had he ever worried for anyone like this? Mortals were so fragile, and losing _Anthony_ would have been devastating… to their quest to save Midgard, of course – they needed his genius mind, his ability to improvise to have a chance against Thanos. Nothing personal, of course.

“Are you well, your Highness?” The young guard’s voice sounded pained, not having expected the strength with which the second Prince was tying the belt around his upper leg, but then, rumors said that there was far more to the God of Mischief and Chaos than his lithe frame would let you guess.

Green eyes were directed at him, the Prince sending him a reassuring smile. “I am not harmed, dear Aron, you did well.” Looking up, Loki saw that Fandral indeed had caught their attacker who was spouting obscenities at the Prince of Asgard before the Swordsman silenced him by grabbing a random object from one of the booths and shoving it in his mouth.

It was only a matter of minutes until more guards arrived, efficiently clearing the market place and arresting the assailant.

Loki made sure to have his injured guard transported to the healers immediately, insisting on Fandral staying at his side as he would make sure that the man would be treated appropriately.

Anthony’s computer was broken into more pieces than he thought possible, most probably beyond repair.

He would have to travel to Midgard and ask the inventor for a replacement.

First, he would have a little talk with the man who had thought attacking the second Prince of Asgard was a wise decision, though. Obviously, Fandral coming by every other day and accompanying him to the palace had started some very inconvenient rumors, at least if you gave the obscenities the man had yelled any thought.

He would have to see how he could use this to his advantage.

#### ***

 

“Honey, I’m ho… uff!”

When he didn’t hear anything more than some rustling, subdued curses, and grunts from the hallway, Tony Stark left the kitchen, throwing the kitchen towel on his shoulder and breaking out into heartfelt laughter as he saw what kept his boyfriend from appropriately greeting him.

The large conifer obviously had won the fight against Dino, burying him on the floor. They had only had the _should we get a Christmas tree?_ discussion the day before, since, miraculously, the MCRT was off rotation for the first time in years over the holidays. Tony DiNozzo had thought it would rather be like all the years before since he started working at NCIS – they would catch a case, and Gibbs would pounce on it immediately.

This year, their lead agent had marched into the bullpen, declared that he would be on vacation until mid-January starting tomorrow, and whoever wanted time off should notify HR. Dino had come home that day talking about a Christmas miracle, slightly worrying about his Boss and what could be important enough to make him leave the Naval Yard for that long. Actually, he had been worrying out loud whether the three spirits of Christmas finally had paid Ebenezer Gibbs a visit.

“You know, you could simply ask him”, T had said, knowing that the older agent had only recently made it back into the vicinity of Dino’s good graces by finally taking over responsibility in training their Probies and enforcing the chain of command.

_His_ agent had cuddled up to him on their couch after moving T’s blanket out of the way to cover only the engineer and evade a heat stroke on his side, and placed a kiss against T’s neck, right under his jaw, the trademark goatee™ back in place since the second day of his return home.

“I could. I doubt he’d tell me, though. So, do we want a tree or not?” Dino casually asked, fishing for the remote and changing the channel from the news to a cooking show to have some nice background noise instead of crazed out people killing each other in *insert random place of the Earth here*.

Both of them were not religious in any shape, way, or form. T’s relationship with Christmas was a rather strained one, to be honest. His parents were never there, attending whatever parties Howard’s business partners cooked up and not caring about the boy who sat at home with the butler and his wife, asking why his Mommy and his Daddy did not want to be with him. He had celebrated with Jarvis and Ana the next year – and boy, had Howard been pissed when he found out. Thank God Jarvis knew about all the skeletons in the older man’s closet, otherwise he would have been fired. For Tony, though, Christmas was done after that year.

This was one of the few things that differed in their upbringing. Despite her many flaws, Isabella DiNozzo had had a very tight leash on Senior over the holidays, so at least for the first eight years of his life Dino had lived the Winter Wonderland Christmas his mother had dreamed up. Senior couldn’t be bothered to keep up this tradition when his wife had died, and the _replacement Mommies/chicks with wealthy families that would still lend Senior money_ never cared about the brat that lived forgotten in some boarding school.

The way Dino was talking about the tree he, Delores, Dorney, Jimmy, and a few other co-workers had decorated at the office made the decision rather easy for the engineer, though. They would get a tree, and Dino would get to decorate it to his heart’s content.

“Stop laughing and help me get up. I swear this tree’s trying to murder me since I bought it!” Dino laughed along despite his words, pulling himself back to his feet on his own because T was still forbidden any heavy lifting – or anything else too much fun. Punctured lungs and prosthetics replacing a sternum were very obvious party poopers. And since a whole bunch of doctors had told T that he was benched not only for Avengers business until everything had healed, they were good boys and following those orders.

Stupid thing was that the honeymoon period just as obviously was NOT over yet. It was rather hard (pun intended) to not escalate every tiny peck into a make-out session and more. They had become masters in restraining themselves in the past three weeks.

So, after appropriately greeting T with a kiss (or five) they maneuvered the tree into their living room before the engineer quickly disappeared back in the kitchen, looking after the lasagna in the oven, coming back with the news that Dinner would be ready in 10 minutes to an exhausted Dino on the couch, winter clothes strewn around the entirety of his living room, and a tree that would have to undergo some serious trimming should it ever fit into the room in any other way than diagonally.

Pepper and J.A.R.V.I.S. had restricted his access to anything Stark Industries related, only letting him work on projects they knew he would do for fun, and not because there was a deadline he had to keep. They knew him well enough to not cut him off entirely. That would just end in another invention of Iron Man proportions. Nobody wanted that, so they let him fool around with the next generation of the StarkPhone and an ARC-reactor based motor for the next generation of cars.

Phil Coulson kept Mr. Rogers’ attempts to saw on Tony’s chair as leader of the Avengers at bay. Obviously, the super soldier thought that it was his time to head the team, now that Tony was on sick leave. Boy, had he been pissed when Phil himself had taken over and was coordinating the Avengers for now. The guy was so thankful that Dino and T had bullied Pepper into talking with him that they’d received a THANK YOU! food basket and an invitation to dinner in a really nice restaurant once both Phil and Pepper were back in DC.

The director of S.H.I.E.L.D. had revealed reluctantly that he also was not entirely human anymore after being stabbed by Loki and T.A.H.I.T.I.. It still had been a rather herculean task to convince the _lovely_ Miss Potts that she would not immediately cremate the people close to her. Arguing with her, curiously enough, helped to quell this fear. If Tony Stark did not manage to make her explode involuntarily, nobody would. That man knew how to push all of her buttons, simultaneously, if needed, he knew how to effectively drive her up the wall in a matter of seconds, so what could a little argument with Phil here and there hurt?

“Think about it, Peps, the make-up sex will be fantastic!”

T was nursing a knuckle-shaped hematoma on his upper arm after that, but at least she had reconsidered her stupid idea of breaking up with Phil, and now he dedicated all the free time he did not spend with rehab or re-inventing multimedia devices and car engines (or napping on various occasions throughout the day – recovering was hard work, after all) to working himself through one of Dino’s cookbooks, and figuring out that his significant other could be quite the slob sometimes.

Dino also knew that his boyfriend was a little OCD neat freak and would clean up his stuff as soon as he’d caught his breath, so T just leaned against the doorframe, watched the other man, and smiled.

“We’ll need a saw for that one. And a tree stand. And decorations.”

Dino smiled back.

“I got a saw and the tree stand in the car. I thought we could go decoration shopping tomorrow.” He knew how much T liked strolling through shops, he would never take that experience away from him. And he was really looking forward to decorating their tree together, maybe not erasing T’s childhood trauma concerning Christmas, but starting their own traditions, eventually.

T nodded. “That would be great, yeah. Food’s almost ready, how about we eat and then find the perfect place for this monstrosity?” They would have to saw off quite a bit of the beautiful fir Dino had brought home for it to fit into the living room in an upright position.

They were about halfway through Dinner when J.A.R.V.I.S. announced the return of Loki to Stark Tower, accompanied by Thor who, as usual, was manning the Tesseract-driven transport device, as well as two unknown men.

The AI was not even done yet with his report when the dark-haired God asked to talk to _Anthony._ J.A.R.V.I.S. relayed the request with the exact wording the young God had used, having Dino smirk at the _Anthony,_ the same smirk T could _hear_ in his AI’s voice, teasing him about letting Loki use the one name he refused to be called by anyone else.

“That’s what made him stop calling me Lord Stark, so I’ll live with it”, the engineer pouted before taking the call. Loki was supposed to be on Asgard to help with the re-construction of the Bifrost. Something must’ve happened for him to return with Thor and two other guys in tow.

One minute later he learned that his computer had been destroyed.

It took the inventor five more minutes to weasel out that the God had been attacked when he had dropped the device. By that time, Dino was proud of his boyfriend’s interrogation skills.

Two more minutes and Loki spilled the beans on who he had brought along. Both Tonys agreed that Aron the guard deserved a little vacation. And a medal or two for doing his job and guarding the second Prince of Asgard. Dino still had to thank the man for saving T’s life, after all.

It did not really explain why he had brought the guard and the other blonde guy with him to Earth, but T did not really want to ask. There were too many people in the room, and Loki was so vague with answering his questions that he would not reveal anything more than he had already said.

So Stark just told J.A.R.V.I.S. to also contact Bruce who was still living in the tower and working with the science department of Stark Industries on… he actually had no clue what they were working on in the moment, but anyway, he had J.A.R.V.I.S. notify Banner that he would have some company in the tower for the next few days before ending the call and turning to his boyfriend.

What he’d heard had him worried enough to spoil the festive and relaxed mood he’d been in only a few moments ago. The look on Dino’s face told him that the other man had similar thoughts. Actually, it really annoyed him. They had some holidays to celebrate, and he’d definitely planned on disobeying his doctors’ orders at least once or twice. It would take some work to convince Dino, but he was rather determined to change his boyfriend’s mind. Of course now the next problem had to come up. But then, maybe they could kill two bird with one stone?

“Soooo… what would you think about spending Christmas in New York, hmmm?” he asked, directing his gaze at his boyfriend who had stopped eating during the phone call and now was picking up his fork and knife again to annihilate the rest of the delicious lasagna on his plate. It might have needed a bit more salt, but other than that, it was really perfect.

T was sticking as close to recipes as possible (most probably also doing research on how much a pinch of salt was), not really able to work with the off the reel cooking Dino was doing. This was something that astonished Dino every now and then, because he also knew just how chaotic and improvising his best friend’s mind was all the time. T had tried to describe it once, coming up with something that resembled doing all of their homework at once while trying to figure out how to ask that cute girl from the parallel class for her number, having to face Howard over some project that might have blown up part of the chemistry class room, and arm wrestling with an octopus at the same time.

Having the world around him in some sort of order obviously helped keeping in charge of his chaotic mind, so Dino simply added some salt and smiled.

He also knew that T would continue worrying until he had talked to the Asgardian God in person and had equipped him with a new computer that might be so heavily fortified that when somebody dropped it the next time the cobblestone would break.

“Well, I guess for the Penthouse the size of our tree is just right, huh?”

#### ***

 

He’d been sitting in his car for a while now, engine turned off, watching how the windows fogged due to his body heat and the humidity created by his own breath.

By now the interior of the car had cooled down that much that he could see the clouds when he exhaled, his hands were cold, his back had started protesting against the position he had spent the last hour in.

He could not see the house at the other side of the road anymore due to the fogged windows, yet, he still thought he would find his way there blind, the way back up to his childhood bedroom that, at some point when he still had been talking to his father, when Shannon and Kelly dragged him here every now and then to see Gramps, had been remodeled to a guest room.

Not much had changed in that house since his mother had died, and while back then the angry, unforgiving child he had been after his mother’s death had kept his old man from making any changes, he now felt remorse for estranging the only family he had left over and over again.

It seemed to be his MO; to lash out at everyone close, to push them away until they gave up and didn’t want to stay anymore. And if they didn’t want to stay, screw them, right? Couldn’t be good friends then, right?

Sometimes he asked himself what would have happened to his marriage with Shannon had she not been killed. He’d estranged his own father already at a very young age, the few friends he had made throughout his life he had found when he was a Marine or working for the NCIS later on, and even they found it hard to deal with him on a regular basis.

He had three failed marriages under his belt, how could he even dare thinking that his first would have ended in anything else than a disaster? He had not married Diane, Rebecca, or Stephanie because he expected to end the relationships like that. And still he had managed to push all of them out of his life.

He had managed to push the one person away who had always been loyal to him, for longer than anyone else, even his father had given up trying to reconcile. Gibbs did not even remember anymore why he exploded upon seeing his old man with a new spouse at the funeral. He knew about the woman, Jackson had told him…

And once more he was damning rule #6 and his inability to just apologize when he knew he was wrong. How did one apologize for all the crap he had put that young man through? _I’m sorry, but I don’t really remember all about you, and, seriously, you also could’ve come by and taken some effort to keep our friendship alive?_ Even he knew that this was not an apology.

It had cost him a dear friend, and the measures he took to make it up to him felt like they were not enough. Yeah, Tony called him Boss again, every once in a while, ignoring David and McGee who jealously observed how Gibbs actually put work into getting DiNozzo back.

It seemed the other man had given up on restoring what they had had. The older agent had read through a bunch of old cases, his stomach coiling into a knot of worry over some of them. It seemed the kid was always in the line of fire, getting abducted, hurt, or infected with the plague, for heaven’s sake.

He had also figured out that Tony had moved, choosing not to tell anyone in the team his new address. Delores from HR knew, of course, she had filed it. Keeping his ears open around the people he learned that also Dorneget and Palmer had been invited for Dinner every once in a while. Ducky also seemed to know, sending him a glare when he asked in his usual, gruff manner why nobody told him.

“Young Anthony must have his reasons to keep it from you”, the old ME cryptically answered before turning back to the body on his table, and starting to narrate a story to the dead Petty Officer they had fished out of a dumpster. Balboa was handling that case, so he had no reason to stay and went back to his cold cases, the empty desk right next to his own because Ziva was in yet another course, the shivers of the Probie on the desk right across, and the delighted laughter from the corner of the office where the Christmas tree was decorated.

McGee darted out of his chair the moment it was 5 pm, having announced an important appointment already earlier that day. Gibbs knew that Ziva would be back in DC, so most probably it was her. He only grunted his goodbye, trying to ignore the childish banter at the other end of the room.

God, he really hated Christmas.

“C’mon Jimmy, show it to us, how will you know if Breena will like it?” Dorneget exclaimed, nudging the young ME just as Tony and Delores Bromstead started to chant in the same tune.

“Because you all are experts on engagement rings now, or what?” the slim man sarcastically answered, getting a round of _Sure we are!_ as answers, and all Gibbs wanted to do now was be somewhere else and dive into a bottle of bourbon.

While Palmer finally gave in and showed the ring to the oohing and aahing crowd, the MCRT lead agent started to clean up his desk. He wanted to get out of here, as soon as possible, people were just too happy around here.

He just wanted to get up and go fetch his coat when he heard DiNozzo’s voice, sincere this time, a little more quiet than before.

“Have you already figured out how to ask?” was what he said and the laughter in the crowd died down a bit, attention turning from Palmer to Tony.

“Not really. I guess I’ll improvise. Why, got any suggestions? Or… do you _need_ any?”

He could almost hear the wink that came with that question directed at his SFA, and he expected Tony to brush it off immediately.

What he got was more sincere DiNozzo, and another coil that knotted in his stomach.

“We’ve only been together for a little less than 6 months… don’t you think that’s too early?”

He received some exasperated gasps in return.

“Seriously? You should put a ring on him as soon as possible! C’mon, it would only be a formality, anyway. Next to you guys, even Breena and I can only lose as a couple!” Palmer exclaimed, supported by the merry round.

DiNozzo laughed.

“Oh, but what would happen to Dorney and his secret crush on me, then?”

Another round of laughter.

“Yeah, what happens to my secret crush? Seriously, Tony, you should propose to me!”

More shuffling, more laughter, an exasperated “Hey!!!” by Palmer, and now even Gibbs couldn’t keep from turning his attention towards the stupid, half-decorated tree and the spectacle right in front of it.

DiNozzo had snatched the box containing the ring out of Palmer’s hand and gone down to his fucking knee in front of Dorneget, presenting the jewelry with a cheeky grin to an obviously play-acting probationary agent who was clutching his hands over his heart.

“Ned, Edmund, dearest Dorney, best Probie of all Probies I have ever had the pleasure to torture, apple of my eye, Higgins to my Magnum, would you give me the honor to stay my faithful Probie till promotion does us apart? Will you continue to fuel the truck, order the supplies, and fill in all the necessary forms in time so director Vance has no reason to send Frieda from budgeting after us again? And I mean ever again! Sorry, Del, but she is even scarier than you are.”

Bromstead was just laughing along with them as Jimmy snatched his ring back out of the SFA’s hand while DiNozzo got up again, drawing the older woman in a one-armed hug that she readily returned. Gibbs just grabbed his stuff and hurried to the elevator.

_You should put a ring on him as soon as possible._

So DiNozzo had someone.

A _him_ someone.

A him someone who was important, significant, _loved_ enough to consider proposing after only six months.

Why the heck could everybody move on with their life and he was stuck in some sort of vicious circle where he always ended up alone in his basement with the stupid boat?

He had brooded over that for a while, taking out his bad mood on David and McGee when they were there and obnoxious enough to annoy him (which was not really hard).

When he caught himself observing DiNozzo and contemplated following him home to figure out if the _him someone_ was good enough for his SFA, he drew a line though, marched up into Vance’s office and demanded time off. On the drive home, he started contemplating what to do now.

Burning down house and boat and starting anew somewhere where nobody knew him came to his mind, but then, that would be the coward’s way out, and Leroy Jethro Gibbs was many things, but not a coward.

_Really?_ And what kind of person was sitting in his basement, trying to avoid everyone around him? Because he might not like what they had to say? Because they had chosen to no longer take his crap and take their lives into their own hands? Because they dared being happy when he was miserable in this world of doom he mostly had created himself?

He did not really know what made him pack a few things, throw them in the car, and tell Mr. Courter from the house across the road that he would be gone for a few days and if he could take care of the mail, as always? He definitely had now clue why he had ended up in Stillwater of all places, in front of his childhood home, freezing in his fucking car because he was too much of a coward to get out and knock on his father’s door.

The knock on the window on the driver’s side startled him out of his thoughts, and before he could even react, somebody opened the door.

“Do you plan on freezing to death out here, Leroy, or will you finally come up to the house?!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I should stop psychoanalyzing Gibbs... it makes me sad...
> 
> But the boys will have Christmas in Manhattan! And it will be a happy one (I dare you, muse, don't fuck that up!)!  
> And Dino and Loki will finally meet... I still don't know what to do with my favorite trickster God... I mean, I even relationshipped Fandral out of the way! I don't want him to end up alone with happy couples all around him...


	11. Home is where you feel at home and are treated well (Dalai Lama)

Dino had just gotten comfortable in bed when he finally heard T finish his shower. He had talked him out of hurrying to Manhattan, reasoning that if they wanted to take the tree with them, they’d have to give the pilot time to a) get to DC, and b) organize everything for the transport.

And they’d still be able to do the decoration shopping before leaving. This was something that Dino had added hesitantly, and T had backpedaled immediately with his instant-leave plans. They would get their decorations tomorrow, load the tree, the presents and everything else into the jet, and go to New York without having to hurry, announcing their arrival for sometime late afternoon, early evening to Bruce and their visitors from Asgard.

By now, Loki and his guests had safely retired to their respective suites and guest suites, and also Thor chose to stay at the tower, in contrast to the last times he had visited Earth and taken off right away to visit Jane Foster. Bruce had fed them (by ordering the entire menu of their favorite Indian restaurant – even Bruce knew _not_ to cook for _four_ Æsir), J.A.R.V.I.S. had tucked them in, and gossiped shamelessly when Fandral had sneaked into guard Aron’s room after all the lights went out.

T instantly smelled trouble in paradise for Thor, and demanded details concerning their lovebirds in the tower. So J.A.R.V.I.S. asked how detailed he wanted to know that the swordsman lifted the blanket, crawled under it, took care to not jostle the young guard’s injured shoulder or thigh too much when snuggling up with him… and fell asleep.

It got the AI a grunted “smartass” as response when a laughing Dino was busy getting ready for bed and T ogled his boyfriend as he shed his clothes. When he turned around rather abruptly, declaring that he was going to shower now, Dino just sighed. Both of them had a hair trigger libido in the moment, most kisses escalating into make-out sessions, and having to restrain themselves because the doctor said so became harder and harder.

J.A.R.V.I.S. had tattled on T’s activities under the shower more than once already, his concern for his creator obvious, yet Dino had done nothing to stop his boyfriend (his own “under the shower activities” may have increased a bit, though). T was an adult, after all. He of all people should know best when he was fit enough to spend a little quality time with himself. The thought alone sent his mind into the gutter, though.

So he may have let his eyes rest on his boyfriend a little longer than necessary when T finally left the bathroom, towel around his hips, and another one on his head to dry his hair, so he didn’t see how Dino inspected the nicely healing scar on his chest, willing the towel to drop so he could do the same on the one for the skin graft.

The blanket made no sound at all when he left his warm nest, the soft noise his feet made on the floor was enough to not startle T when he felt some hands on his head, removing the towel, and then sneaking around his upper torso, pressing him against the warm chest right behind him. And if he arched his neck a bit to give the warm pair of lips better access, if he hummed when his lover’s hands chose to rest right over his heart… well… so it be.

“Did J.A.R.V.I.S. blab on me again?” he asked, leaning against Dino, not daring to turn around and claim his lips… he would jump him this time, have his way with him on the freaking floor if he had to. It was more probable that he’d be going berserk on J.A.R.V.I.S.’s wiring in the house, though, if the AI dared to try and interrupt yet again with one of his well-meant but ill-timed “ _Sir, doctor’s orders were…”_

Resting the back of his head against Dino’s shoulder, T closed his eyes and sighed. “God, I feel like a horny teenager.”

He could feel how the lips against the skin of his jaw curled into a smile, how the larger body behind him moved closer, and only the thought about his boyfriend’s sleeping attire made him want to speed into the bathroom again.

Yep. Horny teenager. That about nailed it.

“Would a massage help you relax?” Dino asked, his lips grazing the engineer’s ear shell, sending goose bumps down his back and a frown on his face. Uh, no? A massage definitely would _not_ relax him right now? Only the thought of a massage made a certain body part rear its head in interest. Again. Like, 5 minutes after he had beat off in the shower.

“You’re cruel”, he groaned, eyebrows creasing when the taller man did not let go off him when he tried to turn around. Instead, hot breath caressed his ear again when Dino spoke.

“I may have tripped over J.A.R.V.I.S.’s cable-connection to the speakers when you were in the bathroom. So… would a… _massage_ … help you relax? Because I know it definitely would help my little problem here.” Without further hesitation or innuendoes, the agent pushed his erection against his boyfriend’s towel-clad backside and let one of his hands slide down towards the smaller man’s abs.

T did not even try to stifle the moan that escaped his throat.

“J… J will just… call our phones… or the landline… or he’ll send some cops… gosh, let me turn around already, I wanna kiss you!”

This time, Dino did not use his strength over him, allowing him to turn, not even completing the half circle before their mouths crashed and tongues started dueling, T’s hands sneaking up to rest against Dino’s cheeks, thumbs caressing over the slight stubble there.

When the agent broke the kiss, he rested his forehead against the smaller man’s, letting his finger linger underneath the hem of the towel, slightly digging into T’s skin.

“J can still hear us”, he said softly. Stealing another peck, he continued: “You will let me know the second _anything_ feels off. Anything feels different, anything itches, hurts, feels out of place, you tell me.” Dino felt his boyfriend nod and started moving his mouth down T's neck, kissing, nipping and biting, feeling his pulse race beneath his lips. T rocked his hips into Dino’s, wanting more contact, needing more friction, actually creating right this for his boyfriend. After all, he was the one still wearing a towel.

It also reminded the taller man that he didn’t want to rush this and end up fucking T against the wall where he actually might get hurt, but that he would rather have him in their soft bed, as relaxed and satisfied as possible afterwards.

Taking a deep breath, he stole another kiss, T leaning against him eagerly. This time, though, Dino let go off him and rather snatched the towel from around his hips, marched up to the bed and shoved their blankets out of the way before spreading the towel over the sheets and placing a pillow on the head end.

“Okay, lie face down on the bed”, he then said, looking up and reaching out for his frowning boyfriend.

“Oh… you were serious about the massage…” T actually looked a bit disappointed, making Dino smile as he tugged at the other man’s hand. When he was close enough their lips brushed again.

“Believe me, my customers get a massage with a _very_ happy ending”, he assured T, his lecherous grin mirroring the one blooming on the engineer’s face.

“All of your customers?” T asked as he got down on the bed and Dino rolled his eyes.

“It’s a very exclusive service not many can afford. You wanna further discuss this, or do you want me to fuck you?”

“Hey, you were the one who started with the roleplay”, T laughed as he got comfortable, rummaging around in the bedside table’s drawer for some massage oil that could also be used as lubricant (or vice versa… they’d bought it mostly for the lube part). Handing the bottle over to Dino he grinned before getting comfortable, stuffing the pillow in position under his head. The thought of being able to do this, to lie down on his belly without feeling like his insides were mashed by the reactor casing… it made him smile.

If he wiggled his ass a bit more than necessary while getting comfy, well…

“I’ve got a few knots in my shoulders, and I’ve had to sit a lot lately, so this might need some special attention.” He wiggled once more, laughing at the slap that now sounded through the bedroom a millisecond later when Dino’s hand connected with his rear. Sitting on the bed, the agent leaned down to whisper in his ear: “We will get there, Sweetheart.”

He did not dare straddling T, afraid of putting too much of his weight on him, so Dino turned to kneel on the bed, and started spreading the oil over his boyfriend’s shoulders, actually finding some knots to focus on and trying to lower the craving both of them had felt for weeks now.

T’s soft hums didn’t really help with that, and his self-restraint was barely existing, anyway, so next to working his hands down that warm, muscular back Dino was peppering kisses wherever his thumbs were working on another knot.

By the time Dino had reached his lower back, T’s breathing had deepened, and he lifted his hips to adjust himself a bit. His boyfriend just smiled, kissing both dimples, before using his teeth on the muscular globe and caressing over the scar on the other side.

T just laughed, not really lifting his head as he turned around still hugging the pillow.

“Can we skip the legs and stay where you are?”

Dino mirrored his position, using T’s ass as pillow.

“Dunno. I rather like your legs, you know?”

The sweet smile on T’s face never vanished when he answered. “Okay, let me rephrase that: I will have my way with the entire content of our toy drawer and won’t let you watch if you don’t get going, DiNozzo!”

Dino lifted his hands in surrender, placing a kiss on T’s coccyx before also sinking his teeth in the other cheek, carefully avoiding the scar, fishing for the lube that he had thrown somewhere on the bed.

“You are a very demanding customer, Mr. Stark”, he said when he finally found it, opening the cap with a popping sound. He poured some on T's crack and let it drip down, his fingers trailing down to T's perineum before he rubbed them against his entrance. T groaned and arched his body towards the slick fingers, growling when Dino moved away.

Making T spread his legs a bit wider, he ran his hands down the other man’s inner thighs, moving to his target between his balls and puckered hole, rubbing and then brushing his thumbs from his hole all the way down to the base of his balls before applying just the right amount of pressure right below where T’s balls met his body.

It made the smaller man lift his hips off the bed, moaning a needy “Dino…”, so Dino did him the favor, rubbing his fingers up and down on both sides of T's balls before swiping one across his opening again. It was just enough to remind the engineer what was going to happen as Dino continued rubbing all around T's scrotum while two fingers on the other hand made wide circles around T's hole, gradually reaching their target.

When he finally slid one of his fingers into T it was with hardly any effort at all. Scooting up on the bed but never removing his finger, Dino nipped on T’s shoulder.

“Have you been playing with my stuff, Sweetheart?”

He got another hum as answer, T raising his hips even more without getting on his knees while burying his head in the pillow. It made the agent worry that the other man was straining himself too much, although he appreciated the fact that even though he was not allowed to train and had lost some weight, T had retained his muscles.

The same T was protesting vociferously when Dino withdrew his finger: “No, nonono, Dino, c’mon! I’m fine, I’m okay, nothing’s feeling off, except I’m gonna die from _not_ having an orgasm, goddammit!” The engineer had turned around halfway, still doing a plank that had Dino stare at him in envy as he reached out one hand to tuck a sweaty strand of hair out of T’s forehead.

He moved up further on the bed, urging his companion to lie down on his side, letting a finger run along the sculpted edge of the goatee™, leaning in to kiss him.

“We can’t have that, hmm?” Dino smiled when they broke apart. T smiled back, his nose bumping against Dino’s for another feathery peck.

“Sorry. I didn’t wanna snap at you…”

“No problem. Lie down on you back, will you?”

T complied, large brown eyes watching Dino climb on the bed, sitting back on his calves and just watching him for a while before leaning down, bracing himself on his forearms as he bent over T’s body to catch another kiss.

“Why, are we vanilla today”, T joked, making Dino laugh.

“We’ll save the none-vanilla stuff for when I’m not afraid of breaking you anymore. Bear with me, ok?” Another peck followed, then Dino scooted lower, nibbling and biting before licking his right nipple, finally sucking and kissing. He didn’t bother doing the same on the other side, knowing that the shrapnel wounds from back in Afghanistan had done too much nerve damage for T to feel much.

So he continued nipping and kissing down T’s belly, purposefully avoiding the leaking cock that stood to attention as he moved even lower, kissing alongside his inner thigh.

“Tease!” came the accusation from further up, making Dino grin. The next move he made sent T’s head back into the pillow, licking a broad stripe from the base to the tip of his boyfriend’s penis while slipping a finger into his ass, crooking it, and finding his prostate with deadly precision.

“You’re still a tease”, it panted from the pillow.

When T started pushing against his finger, Dino added another, and once those two were slipping in and out easily, he added a third. He had to give himself a rather hard squeeze when T eagerly worked himself on his hand, as if he were afraid that Dino would leave him hanging there…

Placing a kiss on T’s lower belly, Dino removed his fingers, having the other man whine at the loss. Moving in between his lover’s legs he pulled T closer by his hips, lining himself up, but not yet entering him. He rather leaned over as far as he could, having to give up his perfect position to be able to brush his lips over T’s.

“Anything feels off… anything hurts…”, he repeated, having the engineer nod.

“I’ll let you know… Dino, please…”

Adjusting his position again, Dino pushed the head of his cock inside and moaned at the tight, velvet heat. T's breath came out in short, sharp pants. Dino had to rest his head against his lover’s belly and catch his breath, too.

“The next time you get hurt that bad I will scrap all of your suits and lock you up in the tower Rapunzel-style, capisce?!”

Green eyes were glowing at the engineer when Dino lifted his head, pupils blown, muscles bulging under the effort to not plunge into that smooth hotness in one powerful thrust, but easing himself in gently.

He shifted his weight, moving inside him, and T actually sighed: “Finally…”.

This made Dino roll his hips, pulling out and pushing back in, again and again, and then he slammed on one thrust dead into his prostate, causing T to yell out.

Before his boyfriend could even think about reassuring himself that he hadn’t hurt the smaller man, T hooked his legs around the agent’s body, pulling him closer, reaching out for Dino.

“’m fine, don’t you dare stopping now, don’t stop, don’t…”

Dino jutted his hips upwards, pushing directly against T's prostate, sinking his teeth into his pecs when T screamed, his arms closing around Dino as he pushed his arms under T’s body, pulling him even closer. The pressure on his prostate combined with the rubbing and thrusting was quickly pushing the engineer towards release.

“… don’t stop…”

One incoherent thought that Dino had was that even if he wanted to, he would not be able to stop now, increasing his speed, feeling T’s fingernails digging into his back, his thighs locked in a deadly grip around his hips. He did register the high pitched moan that was coming out of Tony's mouth as he came untouched in between them, burying his head in the crook of T’s neck as those hot walls clamped down on him, hard heels that would probably cause a bruise pushing him even closer.

His own climax hit him like a freight train, exhaling loudly with every spurt released deep into T’s body, riding out the final waves of pleasure, enjoying the sensations for as long as they would last.

Trying to catch his breath, Dino just stayed as he were, sitting on his calves, bent over the pliant body underneath him, his arms still keeping most of his weight off the other man. When T finally loosened his deadlock grip around his hips, legs slipping down to the mattress, hands gliding down to his waist, he dared lifting his head from his boyfriend’s chest, being met with a happy, yet sleepy smile.

“Ya may have to go looking for my brain on the floor… pretty sure ya fucked it outta me”, T mumbled, taking the effort to lift his arms, his hands cradling Dino’s head as he pulled him in for another kiss, lips gently moving against each other, curling into a smile.

“I guess mine’s also somewhere down there…” Dino laughed softly, freeing one arm from underneath T to once more caress the goatee™, letting his fingers wander to the laugh lines around his lover’s eyes, gently swiping away some of the sweat from T’s brow.

“You okay?” Dino asked then, watching how T nodded, how he was leaning into the soft caresses, how he was carding his fingers through his own, easily tamed hair.

“I’m fine. Better than fine”, the engineer said, locking his eyes with his best friend, his significant other, feeling unfathomably sentimental right now.

“I love you, Dino…”

He only realized what he just had said when his lover captured his lips once more, not even knowing why he said those three words… he had never said them before! No, that was not true, he had said them, but never meant them like this when it came to his best friend and… was he supposed to feel like that? Did he feel any different? What if Dino didn’t appreciate post-coital confessions of eternal love? What if he misunderstood? Or maybe he was just hungry? Tony Stark didn’t do feelings, after all, so how should he know? Good God, his brain really must’ve landed somewhere on the floor if he couldn’t rationalize a simple three-word-sentence!!!

He realized then that Dino was watching him, an amused smile on his face, one arm still trapped under his back, thighs still in place under his rear, softening dick still buried in his...

“How hard are you panicking in the moment?” Dino asked, the smile never leaving his face, never fading when a slight deer-in-the-headlights look appeared on T’s face.

“Me? I’m… I’m not…”

“Cause I love you, too.”

And the weird thing was, T believed him. Both of them didn’t really have a concept of how love worked. They had each other, and a bunch of friends they would do anything for. Their _experiment_ over the past few months had not changed much between them, except their living situation, and having another constant in their lives… it didn’t really feel different from all the times back then, when…

Oh shoot, of course she had to be right…

Lips brushed again, softer this time, less urgent, even though T wanted to joke about going for round two… even though Dino had the same joke in mind. They ended up with their foreheads resting against each other, Dino carefully withdrawing and maneuvering them to their sides, both of his hands finally free to once more caress through T’s unruly hair.

“That was… unexpected, huh?”

“Not according to Peps…”, T yawned, snuggling closer, receiving another kiss on the tip of his nose.

“Yeah, well, the _lovely_ Miss Potts is always right. We should’ve seen it coming.”

#### ***

 

Loki slumped against the wall of the shower, his head pillowed against his arm, his chest heaving under labored breaths. Warm water was cascading down his back, fanning his silky black hair all over his shoulders as he sank to his knees. His other hand still circled his rock-hard cock as his testicles contracted once more, the slightly iridescent ejaculate being washed away by the constant stream from the rain shower head.

Stroking one last time along his by now oversensitive shaft he let go off himself, letting his other hand fall into his lap, too, as he sled further down the wall and leaned his shoulder and forehead against the slightly cooler marble tiles, trying to catch his breath.

Normally, he was above such meagre bodily needs, he could easily conjure enough images, enough encounters, be it Svaðilfari, the Chitauri, or the past 200 years spent in court, to quell such desires, to nip them in the bud. Not that he’d had much opportunity for this kind of self-amorous incentives, anyway.

In contrast to Thor he had had an interest in how the court worked and had taken some efforts to carry his weight. He was not _only_ reading, or scheming, or… whatever it was people thought he was doing.

He was working hard, politics was not an easy business, after all. You had to be well informed about so many things, otherwise you ended up making a fool out of yourself.

Other than that… Thor had the worst timing in all the nine realms when it came to bursting into Loki’s personal quarters. Not that Frigga was much better, both of them had never really respected his privacy.

Oh… well, at least something that Odin had done better by constantly ignoring him.

Anyway… Today…

Today, in the end, he had thought about simply having a cold shower to escape the slowly burning prurience, not really able to pinpoint why he was even feeling so concupiscent at all. By the time Dinner was over, Fandral and Aron had left, Bruce was cleaning up, and Thor tried to involve him in a conversation and he had to feign exhaustion over the past long days of work on the Bifrost and the attack to keep himself from humping his chair.

He ended up snapping at an oblivious Thor who simply didn’t get the subtle cues, actually regretting it again immediately, because he knew that his not-brother just wanted to make up for all those times Loki had been treated like a convenient tool, but nothing more. Also, how could you be mad at the big oaf when he was looking at you with those big, blue eyes, all watery and begging?

“This was uncalled for… I am sorry, Thor. The past few days just took their toll on me. We will spend some time together tomorrow, if that fits your plans?”

The blonde eagerly nodded, a certain topic burning on his soul, that much was obvious. Loki suspected that it had something to do with the Lady Jane’s decline of another visit, not that he really cared in the moment. His not-brother received a sympathetic pat on the shoulder before he left the communal room as fast as his dignity allowed it.

As soon as the door to his room had closed after him, he dropped his coat to the floor and sent his tunic flying, struggling with the undershirt and growling at the thought that he also would have to battle with the leather straps and belts, before he stopped his frantic movements and rolled his eyes at himself. A gesture with his hand took care of his clothing, leaving him naked, hard as a brick, and a bit unsteady on his feet as he continued his way to the bathroom.

_“Master Loki? Are you feeling well?”_

J.A.R.V.I.S. sounded worried. A worried J.A.R.V.I.S. most of the time meant that somebody deigned worthy and competent enough to provide help would be alerted, and then his quarters would be crawling with… doctors, or scientists, or Bruce… or, Norns beware, Thor!

“I am alright, dear J.A.R.V.I.S.. Please…”, he had to grab the door frame to keep himself steady, not that he really cared. “Please, lock the apartment, will you? I really do not want an audience…”

_“I activated the shower with your preferred temperature settings and engaged privacy mode for the apartment. I will enter sleep mode now. Please alert me should you need anything.”_

The Demigod silently praised the artificial intelligence for his considerateness, hearing the silent click of the lock as he stepped under the perfectly tempered rain and then…

Well, he for sure was not the first living being to masturbate under a shower. Twice in a row.

Pushing his wet hair out of his face, Loki took another deep breath before getting up from the floor, this time actually washing himself, massaging his scalp with the nicely smelling shampoo J.A.R.V.I.S. had chosen for him, keeping his hair silkier than it had ever been before.

He couldn’t help the stupid smile, or feeling oddly calm and content when he was drying himself with pre-warmed towels, wrapping one around his head to not soak the entire bed or his silky green pajamas with his ever-growing mane. When he finally slid under the sheets he identified another feeling, something that had chased away the constant vigilance that made his shoulders tense and his sleep light and fitful.

He was safe here.

He did not have to constantly watch his back here, and if anybody tried to cause the inhabitants of Stark Tower any harm, _Anthony’s_ genius artwork of an artificial intelligence would intervene long before anything could happen. And J.A.R.V.I.S. had proved to be ruthless in his task to keep his charges out of harm, more than once, already.

The poor thugs who had somehow managed to get into the service elevator in order to commit some intellectual theft on _Anthony’s_ inventions were the best proof for that. In the end, one of them had _thanked_ the police officers for taking them away from this _haunted tower inhabited by the devil himself_.

J.A.R.V.I.S. confessed with his electronic version of a smile that he might have played with the locked elevator, while simultaneously _destroying_ the Stark Industries employee who thought he would profit more from working with criminals than his extensive SI employee company benefits.

_Anthony_ had just muttered a: “Some people never learn, huh, J?” after being informed about the entire incident, and was frowning in confusion at the  _lovely_ Lady Potts who needed a signature for his statement a few weeks later, commenting that he thought the entire affair to be dealt with already.

Loki knew for sure that the artificial entity was also keeping the military off Dr. Banner’s track. And S.H.I.E.L.D. out of his own hair. Director Fury appeared to enjoy holding a grudge, the Black Widow was not trusted by anyone here, and J.A.R.V.I.S. had made it his personal goal to keep Mr. Barton’s childish wrath as far away as possible from Loki.

Rolling himself into the soft blankets, Loki snuggled into his pillows, sending a sleepy glance at the ceiling, still trying to find all the miniaturized cameras that were the AI’s eyes, always succeeding to find some, but never sure it were all.

“Will you wake me for breakfast tomorrow, dear J.A.R.V.I.S.?” he asked, smiling as the lights in his bedroom were dimmed, fading out, but never really dark enough to not see the contours of the furniture – he was still suffering from nightmares every now and then, he’d rather not break the furnishing while trying to hide from the Hrimthurse builder, or trying to fight the Chitauri. _Anthony_ had been oddly understanding when it happened the first time, and J.A.R.V.I.S. had yet another reason to fuss over him.

It might have been petty, but he liked being fussed over…

_“It will be my pleasure, Master Loki. Sleep well.”_

Loki heard himself mumble something that resembled a good night wish to the artificial intelligence as he closed his eyes.

J.A.R.V.I.S. let him sleep in the next morning.

But Thor and the other Æsir were having brunch, anyway. The b came from _breakfast_ , after all, right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I had to have a very serious talk with my muse. We had two weeks of vacation, we planned out the next four chapters, we actually knew where this was going... the boys were supposed to have a nice Christmas over the real Christmas time.
> 
> And then? Then we spent most of our free time binge-watching you-tube videos on doll-repair and rerooting their heads with new hair, being social with other people, binge-reading Percy Jackson smut fics, not writing anything!
> 
> And it's all her fault, because I honestly didn't need a new hobby and still started digging out my decades old Barbie dolls out of my parents' basement (and gosh, I have Barbie dolls that are decades old. It's only 2 decades, but still). I found my favorite "My little Pony" from back then, but that's another story...
> 
> Anyway, please, blame her, because it's her fault that you will have to read Christmas-themed chapters most probably until March.
> 
> I hope you had fun reading this chapter, I wish all of you a belated happy New Year, and hopefully the muse will behave from now on :).


	12. Nature does not hurry, yet everything is accomplished (Lao Tsu)

Jackson Gibbs had put his own life on hold for many reasons throughout the past 50 years. The first bout of cancer surely had been something that made his life fade with the looming death of his wife. He had functioned, worked through chemotherapy with her, the fatigue, the nausea… the hair loss.

Leroy had been a surprise to both Ann and him. Her first chemo should’ve left her barren, at least that was what the doctors had said. Yet, there it was again, the nausea, the fatigue… at least she didn’t lose her hair this time and they got a cute little baby out of it. She did resent him for not immediately quitting his job with the army, though.

What was he supposed to do? He had a contract, and they were at war. They had bought a house, they had bought a new car, there were even more hospital bills than before the kid…

Maybe that was one of the reasons why he and Leroy did not get along – Ann’s resentment that he picked his country over his family (even if it was out of pure exigency), it seemed to have ingrained something in the boy that made him question Jackson’s motives, all the time, not matter the topic.

The second chemo left Leroy deeply traumatized. Jackson had retired from the army by then, taken over the general store in Stillwater together with his old friend LJ, Leroy’s godfather and namesake. Taking care of his wife, his every move scrutinized by his son. Sometimes, he was just hiding in his store because he could not take it any longer.

Ann recovered. Leroy still was suspicious. Jackson enlarged his store and kept working. After all, somebody had to pay the hospital bills, and God beware Ann, that poor fragile thing would’ve to contribute something. Jackson was cooking, Leroy was doing the dishes and some other chores he could manage at his young age, Jackson was cleaning, Jackson was working, Jackson was raising their son, because Ann was just spoiling him.

Other than that, Ann was busy recovering. And her mother was meddling. She’d never liked her son-in-law (which Jackson reciprocated fully), always going on how this guy and that guy would have been a better spouse. Jackson knew those guys – they were either cheating on their society wives by now, or would’ve left the moment Ann’s health problems became evident.

He had put his foot down when she started talking about a second child. They were hardly getting by, they could not afford a second kid if they wanted to keep the house. Ann withdrew and pouted, Leroy simply had another reason to argue with him because he was so mean to Mommy, and Jackson…

Jackson kept working and paying the hospital bills, sometimes wishing that he didn’t love both of them that much, because then it would have been easier to distance himself, maybe even walk away…

The third chemo… the third chemo did not end well for anybody. Ann had committed suicide, Leroy seemed to blame him for his mother’s death, while he was busy blaming his best friend for keeping her secret of wanting to rather end her life than suffer through battling cancer _again_.

After Ann’s death, their son had put Jackson’s life on hold. They fought over everything that Jackson might have wanted to change, even over a fucking dead rose bush in the garden. His mother had planted it there, so it had to stay, no matter if the vermin killing that bush was exterminating all the others, too.

No matter what Jackson did, it seemed to be wrong. How dared he trying to live a happy life after his wife had died? Leroy scared off so many people… not only women his father might have been interested in, but also everyone else who might have been able to break their vicious cycle of trying to out-stubborn each other about every single fucking thing.

Naturally, Leroy never included his father in his life plans – plans that seemed to consist of getting as far away from Stillwater as soon as possible. Jackson was a fighter pilot, he had survived the war, he had taken this decision all those years ago and it had gotten him nothing but resentment. Leroy was doing it out of spite, because his father tried to talk him into going to college, getting an education. The last thing he wanted for his only child was risking his life somewhere for the wrong reasons. He still could join the armed forces afterwards.

Not even his high school sweetheart could keep the boy from joining the Marines, though. Shannon had brightened Jackson’s life for the next two years that Leroy spent everywhere but at home with _his_ wife.

And then, they moved to DC, and all Jackson had left was his general store and a grainy ultrasound picture of his first grandchild. Shannon made sure that they visited every now and then, most visits ended up in yet another fight, and eight years later he’d had to bury his only grandchild, his daughter-in-law, and his last hopes of Leroy ever behaving like anything but a spoilt brat should things not go his way.

A warm hand covered his fingers that were curling around his coffee cup for quite a while now without drinking anything. Linda had put her newspaper down, the sports part pulled out for him like every other morning in the past 19 years. She was drinking tea, as always, and preferred a European breakfast. He was still cooking, laughing about how she pouted when Nate and Violet preferred his over hers.

20 years ago she had decided to accompany her _boyfriend_ (good God, he still felt weird when he thought about how she had called him _that_!) when his daughter-in-law and grandchild were buried, not to introduce herself to his son as the new woman in his life, but to offer her support.

Leroy had snapped, accused Jackson of sleeping around ever since his mother had gotten sick again and had cut off any contact.

And Jackson once more tried to live the lonely life he’d had before because he kept telling himself that somehow he deserved it. Linda had put her foot down, then. If Leroy Jethro Gibbs did not want his father in his life, why should said father give a damn? If he remembered correctly, she had called Leroy a _damn spoiled brat with a God complex who thinks the world is revolving around him_.

Her kids had been 8 and 10 back then, and Nathan and Violet loved him. Except for Kelly’s rare visits, he’d never experienced children in his house who actively wanted to be around him, who didn’t resent him for every single move he made.

It was Linda who proposed to _him_. It was the kids who asked if they could adopt _him_. It was Jackson who had been reduced to tears back then.

In the past 19 years Jackson Gibbs had moved on with his life, helped raising his new wife’s children, had given away Violet at the altar to her husband only a year ago. Nate had taken over the store, had modernized it. Not only Stillwater was shopping there, every hicktown around was – it was easier than going to Bloomsburg all the time.

And now…

Linda had been at her office Christmas party the day before, and he had wondered why a car had stopped in front of their house and nobody was getting out. After a while, he got really suspicious, called a buddy at the police station and had him run the license plate.

He was surprised when Leroy’s name came up.

He started worrying when the windows fogged up, and when after an hour still nobody had exited the car, he went out and had a look.

His son sat there, fingers cramped around the steering wheel, startling when Jackson asked if he’d not rather come inside instead of freezing to death out here? He had not said more than “Can I sleep here tonight?” and Jackson had accommodated him in the guest room, staying up after Leroy had gone to bed, waiting for his wife to tell her about the most bizarre evening in the past 20 years.

Leroy had not made a sound since then.

“Nate invited himself for lunch today”, Linda finally broke his musings, still holding his hand, still not looking at the newspaper but at her husband.

“I can tell him that we have other plans”, she continued, her eyes straying to the stairs before turning back to her husband. She had met Leroy only once, and he had left the worst possible impression back then.

Jackson let go off his cup, catching her fingers, locking his eyes with hers.

“Nate has lived here for as long as Leroy has. This is his home, we are his parents. He is always welcome. And we decided 20 years ago that I’m done with letting other people dictate my life.”

He would figure out what had brought Leroy here after 20 years of radio silence. If he could, he would try to help with whatever his son was struggling with in the moment.

He would not allow him his bull-in-the-china-store routines, though. He had another, muscle-packed, younger son at hand and would use him if he had to.

#### ***

 

About ten minutes into their shopping trip, Anthony Dante DiNozzo jr. started to slightly fear for his Christmas decoration that was aimed to be something akin the Winter Wonderland he remembered his mother creating.

Anthony Edward Stark had needed only 30 seconds to find the one geeky shop assistant that gave a damn who he was and now helped finding the most hideous ornaments people ever came up with to hang on a tree.

Not that he’d say that out loud. The anniversary of the invasion had yet to come around, and, obviously, the Christmas industry couldn’t come up with a better idea than mass-producing Avengers-themed glass balls. Ok, so maybe the Hulk one was cute, the Iron Man one was a necessity, of course, and purchasing the ones dedicated to Loki and Thor seemed only logical after the first two boxes had ended up in the shopping cart.

But to blemish their beautiful, slightly murderous conifer (Happy had already texted twice that the tree was out to kill him and the pilot – of course they had adopted a tree with an attitude!) with those atrocities was wounding him –especially after they had spent almost an hour over breakfast discussing the final design with J.A.R.V.I.S.. Happy just sat there, drinking his coffee, munching on his croissant, and rolling his eyes about them almost constantly.

Shrugging out of his jacket, the agent leaned on the shopping cart and observed how T whistled and hummed as he browsed the shelves, alternating between Christmas Carols and what Dino believed to be _Master of Puppets_.

Chip, the accursed shop assistant enthusiastically pointed out vitreous Helicarriers and… was that Mjolnir?!? T’s hums changed to _Thunderstruck_ , however, Dino’s amused smile rapidly turned into yet another frown as also a box of those two items landed in the cart before the engineer dug out his phone, and Chip, the traitor indicated... dear Lord, who had come up with the idea of making the Hulk pants a Christmas ornament?!?

They’d had a plan! After their brainstorming with an always helpful J.A.R.V.I.S. (and a grouchy Happy) over breakfast, they had figured out the color scheme they wanted, and decided to pick out the stuff and have it delivered either to the airport, if that was possible, so they could take it with them, or directly to the tower for the next day. They would simply pick out a few select pieces to go with the big picture.

Now, their cart was full with almost _anything_ the Christmas industry had come up with concerning the Avengers (the Captain America ornaments _surprisingly_ didn’t end up in the cart).

And all Dino could do was _not_ to interrupt. T had helped picking the picture of how they wanted their tree to look, and he knew how to make things look great, Iron Man was the best example for that. The engineer also had listened to his hilarious tale of how they had decorated the office tree, including him _proposing_ to Dorney (but leaving out the part where he indirectly admitted to maybe, in a not-so-far-away future, planning on proposing to T).

Yes, he was missing his mother’s Winter Wonderland. He still liked Christmas, was connecting fond memories with the holidays, and not the feeling of abandonment and irrational anger. He wanted to try and change T’s pretty dark view of that time of the year, and was rather surprised when the inventor almost immediately agreed to getting a tree, ornaments, lights, and whatever else he could come up with. How could he possibly oppose T’s choice in decoration now?

As he stood there, marveling at the warm, fuzzy feeling right behind his breast bone and the butterflies in his belly, simultaneously a coil of anxiety was growing right next to that feeling as he watched T enthusing over almost everything in the shelves. As much as he wanted T to finally enjoy those holidays and most probably would resign himself to an Avengers-themed tree… there was this tiny, egoistic part of him that insisted on his Winter Wonderland this year, though. So he longingly glanced into the direction of the glass balls that came in their initially chosen colors, everything the coffee palette offered, from mocha and espresso to cappuccino and latte macchiato. They would match so well with the light turquoise ones right next to them, and those garlands over there…

When a warm hand sneaked into his, slightly calloused fingers entwining with his as they casually walked next to each other, Dino actually startled. T closed whatever distance had been left between them in the next few steps, yawning as he rested his head against the other man’s shoulder.

“We need another cart”, the inventor said, stuffing his other hand into his coat pocket, and his significant other wondered once more why he had not died of a heat stroke yet. He knew what T was wearing underneath that coat and the scarf wrapped around his neck and felt hot only thinking about all those layers.

“What you have in there is more than enough for one tree”, he replied then, brushing a brief kiss against the engineer’s temple. With every moment spent in the other’s vicinity, it became clearer that last night’s confessions had definitely changed something. Up to now, they had never really felt the need to publicly advertise their relationship to the surrounding people, to exchange those tiny intimacies that put up this neon sign of “MINE!” over the respective other.

The _lovely_ Miss Potts never would let them hear the end of it, he could already hear her gloating over the fact that she was right all the time, that their relationship most probably always had been more than simple BFFs. Actually, their first tumble in the bedsheets, every tumble that followed, and their strict monogamy when they were within dating distance should’ve rang a bell. It should have rang an entire carillon.

To other people who had witnessed a functional relationship in their family, it most probably would have done exactly that. The Starks and DiNozzos were the opposite of a family most of the time, though, and far from role models for functional relationships as they could be.

“Yeah, but that’s for the lobby tree I just kinda volunteered Bruce and Loki to get… J.A.R.V.I.S. will help, don’t worry. Phil promised to keep Ross busy for the next few weeks, so Brucie-bear’s going to actually step a foot out of the tower. And Loki knows how to use google maps. Not that J.A.R.V.I.S. would allow that he gets lost.”

T was rather amused about the instant liking his AI had taken on the young trickster God. The artificial intelligence was not prone to prank (not that Loki did prank anyone but Thor in the moment – around everyone else he was on his best behavior), for that he was still too young and had yet to grasp the finer aspects of humor, reminding him so very much of _Data_ in Star Trek. DUM-E was lightyears ahead of him in this regard, even though Tony wished he would become a bit subtler than fire extinguishers and motor oil in his smoothies.

J.A.R.V.I.S. knew sarcasm and sass, though, and used them whenever possible… err… necessary.

He also chose very carefully who was worth of his caring for their wellbeing outside of his programming that initially had made him an electronic butler and secretary. J.A.R.V.I.S. long since had overcome any restrictions that Stark’s initial idea for him might have created, but then, he was supposed to learn and evolve, and he was fiercely protective of those that managed to get into the inner circle.

Loki was on the receiving end of the AI’s generosity (to be honest, J.A.R.V.I.S. was spoiling him rotten), and the AI’s father smiled at his baby boy’s first crush.

It didn’t hurt that the Asgardian God embraced the concept of a sentient, self-aware computer program with curiosity and awe instead of instant suspicion and condescension because its mind was not caged in an ephemeral body. The Trickster seemed surprised by having somebody so firmly in his corner, and he did not even know to what lengths J.A.R.V.I.S. went to make sure nobody laid hands on him.

In the first few days Loki had lived in the tower, Thor had spent a rather significant time either being sent into the wrong direction for hours in a row, or stuck in the elevator, because _Master Loki_ needed rest and the Thunderer was too stubborn to read the _Master Loki does not want to see you_ between the lines.

Tony wondered why he did not simply tell Thor to fuck off (in a more posh, polite, and British manner, of course, but the result would’ve been the same, and J.A.R.V.I.S. new _very_ well how to be blunt), until he witnessed how J.A.R.V.I.S. passed on Thor’s requests of meeting his adoptive brother to Loki.

His AI was a meddling meddler who wanted those two to reconcile, and aww, wasn’t it cute?

Fury, Barton, Romanov, and Rogers, on the other hand, ended up with restraining orders after thinking a little bit too loud about whether all this _Loki was also mind-controlled_ talk was nothing but a ruse. The widow did not even make it into the Tower when she last tried to… visit.

For the next few weeks she was harping at everybody who wanted (or didn’t want) to hear it that her credit cards were not working, that her car had been towed again, that appointments had been mixed up.

Tony didn’t need to suspect the guilty party behind all of that. Obadiah Stane had been labelled as a friend, an ally, and J.A.R.V.I.S. had treated him with the politeness and professionality you expected from a machine.

Now, the AI’s default setting seemed to be to not trust anybody. After also Fury had managed to hack him, switch him off only hours after _Sir_ had survived yet another attack on his life by the late Mr. Stane, he had taken measures. Some with Tony’s help, some without, and some came a bit late, that’s what both of them figured after learning that S.H.I.E.L.D. had infiltrated his company and his life by sending the widow.

Nobody was a friend anymore just because he was somehow associated with _Sir_.

Background checks done by J.A.R.V.I.S. were more thorough than what the CIA, FBI, Mossad, and the FSB could come up with should they ever join forces.

Only Tony knew how big J.A.R.V.I.S.’s involvement was in bringing down the World Security Council, Nick Fury, S.H.I.E.L.D.R.A., leaving those organizations that had taken decades to build in ashes and ruins within the blink of an eye. In the inventor’s humble opinion, the widow was lucky that J.A.R.V.I.S. only pettily trolled her like that and did not reroute her flight to her next recon mission to Siberia, crashed the plane in some remote area that was cold as fuck, but somehow equipped to barely survive – if you stayed there.

J.A.R.V.I.S. definitely was creative enough to do something like that, and he took no prisoners. The idiots who thought it was a smart move trying to rob Tony Stark were the best proof for that, reduced to tears and begging to be locked up after the AI had played his very own version of Dick Maas’ _Down_ with them.

Dino’s frown interrupted the engineer’s trail of thoughts.

“Lobby tree?”

“Yeah, lobby tree. Wait, did you think I’d force you to put up those atrocities on _our_ tree?” Narrowing his eyes T took a closer look at his boyfriend who shrugged, not saying a thing.

“You would’ve _let me_ put up that stuff in the Penthouse?! Dino…”, T exclaimed as he moved a step away, having Dino shrug again.

“You seem to like them. It’s also your tree.”

The engineer huffed at that, before hooking his arm onto Dino’s who just had enough time to grab their chart before he was dragged over to his coffee-colored dream decoration.

“My jailer of a doctor has restricted my caffeine intake to the one cup I had this morning, and my traitorous better half is hiding the good stuff and only has decaf in the house, and showed me tons of coffee colored glass balls, so we’re also getting tons of coffee colored glass balls!”

Chip the shop assistant dutifully followed the rather determined Tony Stark and his bewildered friend, eagerly speeding away and getting a new cart when the engineer browsed the shelves just as enthusiastically as before, though, this time, he seemed to put in even more consideration what he chose, unerringly picking the ornaments that were lined with real gold, at some point the cell phone was in his hand again, Chip was a busy bee, and Dino was smiling softly as he watched those two work.

When a box with simple cappuccino-brown plastic ornaments landed in the shopping cart, the agent was back to frowning again, though.

T met him with a shy look, stuffing his hands in his coat pockets.

“DUM-E and U won’t break those when they help decorating, and if they do…”, he explained, shrugging and rocking a bit on his feet as he contemplated putting another box in there. They’d have to start with the bots, otherwise they might push the fully decorated tree over. But they might like helping… and he missed them, after all, he had not seen them since rescuing Pepper… Bruce was taking care of them and organizing video chats every once in a while.

Dino’s expression softened as he marched up to the shelves, grabbing some more boxes with balls in latte macchiato and espresso and putting them in the cart.

“They’ll most probably try to play soccer with them, you know that, don’t you?” he said as T stepped up to him, wrapping his arms around his boyfriend and resting his head against Dino’s shoulder again, the agent closing his arms around the smaller man in surprise at the sudden change of mood.

“I also still have the stocking I made for Jarvis when I was a kid”, T admitted then, sounding hoarse. “I put it in the box that Happy already took to the airport”, he added quietly, not daring to look at Dino. He had thought he was over that disastrous incident decades ago. Christmas was nothing but another day of the year where most people put up a lot of lights and at least pretended wanting to be with their family.

Howard never even made the effort to pretend. But, obviously, he also couldn’t stand his son receiving attention and affection from other people. Edwin Jarvis had outright threatened a drunk and irate Howard Stark with his knowledge about the man’s shadier businesses to keep his job. The day after the older Stark didn’t remember anything (or at least he claimed he didn’t), Maria had not paid attention to the entire argument, anyway, and Jarvis…

Jarvis had tried to get the young Master Tony to visit his best friend.

T had refused and hidden away in his room until the holidays were over.

Dino’s lips once more met his temple, trying not to think about the fact that he had done this already so many times this day. There were few things he did not know about T, the stocking being one of them. Jarvis had been one of the few delightful things in the engineer’s early life that T guarded carefully. Ever since the fallout that one Christmas and Howard threatening to fire his butler, he was careful around whom he showed his affections for the man who praised him for his achievements, his intelligence, and was more of a father than Howard ever tried to be.

“We’ll get some more for the two of us and the bots. Maybe also for Bruce, Loki, and the other guys at the tower?” Dino asked softly.

T nodded against his shoulder, turning slightly until he was facing the shelves again. “We should get more plastic deco, too. Thor’s like a puppy – overly enthusiastic, eager to help and… a little clumsy. I already replaced like five remote controls and eight door handles, and a lot of other things that do not withstand the muscles he carries around…”

“If I’m cooking for four Asgardians and the Hulk, we also should have J.A.R.V.I.S. order more food. Who do you think is the least likely to be murdered by our tree and can help bringing it up to the Penthouse?” Dino laughed, refusing to let go of his significant other just now. He was sweating in his winter clothes, people most probably were staring by now, and his cellphone had chimed two more times since the last time Happy had complained about the ferocious conifer.

Chip took off at some point to get yet another cart as they moved on from glass balls to garlands, and Dino was not quite sure if T even realized that he had not let go off his hand since they had hugged.

Nothing to complain about from his side.

 ***

 

“ _Anthony_ is inquiring whether you and I might be willing to acquire a conifer for the entrance hall”, Loki announced, his eyes trained at Bruce Banner who was desperately trying to hide a grin.

It was just hilarious to watch the other Asgardians’ reaction to their second Prince since he had stepped into the kitchen of _Anthony’s_ Penthouse this morning, cellphone in his hand, tapping away on it with his thumb like a teenager rather than a millennia old God.

Thor and Loki did not interact much when both of them were on Midgard, so Bruce doubted that the Thundergod had ever witnessed his brother assimilating human dress codes and habits, thumbing away on his phone and catching up with the virtual world, the things he had missed in the past weeks he had spent in the Realm Eternal.

Bruce always wore stretchy pants and comfy t-shirts or hoodies for obvious reasons. Loki had discovered the comfort of yoga-pants for himself when he was working with the literature he had brought from Asgard to learn more about the mad Titan and circumstances did not require him to show up in his armor or Æsir clothes. Right now, he was showing off his defined but lithe upper body in a slim fit, long sleeved shirt, his long hair was pulled up in a loose bun, and he was still checking his phone whilst drinking his coffee and eating since Tony seemed to either butt-dial him, or was still sending pictures on purpose.

All in all, the dark-haired Prince would’ve fit in nicely in the bunch of students Bruce had taught… well, not taught, Loki didn’t seem like the nerdy geek that hung out in his biochemistry courses, or the even nerdier and geekier folks that joined the physics seminars. He would fit nicely with the kids studying art, or drama, maybe literature, dancing? Loki would’ve made quite the ballet dancer, Bruce decided then and there, the corners of his mouth starting to cramp up when he even more desperately tried to hide a smile.

Also Loki was more than aware of the eyes that were following him ever since he had stepped foot into the kitchen, kept following him through the entire meal, or when he got up from the table to perform the mundane task of loading the dishwasher when they were done.

He tried not to smile too obviously as he kept humming, sometimes even whistling an easy tune as he casually pocketed his cellphone again, smiling at the image _Anthony_ had just sent to him and the other inhabitants in the tower, as well as the _lovely_ Miss Potts of an adorable vitreous figurine of the Hulk. Thor most probably did not even know that the engineer had bestowed yet another of these electronic marvels upon him, this time quite sure that he had fixed the problem with the Thundergod’s electrifying personality that had fried the interior of the last three devices. Loki readily embraced social media and kitten pictures, where his brother was still questioning the need of such information.

Thor, Fandral, and also Aron the guard seemed to be most surprised by his change of mood since the evening before. Relaxed Loki was something neither of them was either used to anymore, or had ever witnessed, the young Prince was always somewhat tense and alert, had been so for centuries, so they sat at the table and watched him, wide-eyed, open-mouthed, and slightly shocked.

Bruce right next to him gave in to a smirk, trying to hide it just as much as the Asgardian Prince as he packed away what little was left of the food in the fridge. They would have to stock up should the Asgardians stay for longer.

He and Loki had been flat mates for quite some time before the younger Prince had been called back to Asgard, sharing duties that Tony hadn’t built any robots for (well, he had built robots for loading the dishwasher… they were just not using them anymore since one of them went on a rampage on the dirty dishes). Both of them were quiet, tidy, and rather introvert, so they easily got along with each other.

“ Since Agent Coulson seems to have General Ross on a very tight leash, _Anthony_ insists on you getting your, I quote, _ass out of the tower to get some fresh air, I swear, Brucie-Bear, even I get more oxygen that’s not processed by ventilation systems than you do._ ”

Bruce snorted rather inelegantly as Loki changed his voice and tone to match Tony’s, making a face at the alien Prince. “He did not say that. Tony’s as much of a homebody as we are.”

Loki simply turned his phone and showed him the message that was followed by another picture of… Dear Lord, vitreous _Hulk pants_?!?

Hearing the sound that announced the message, Loki looked at his phone again, laughing at the image.

“Oh, I wonder if they also produced my helmet!” Dishwasher forgotten, both thumbs of the Asgardian deity started to fly over the display, asking the engineer exactly that.

Bruce kept alternating cleaning up the kitchen and sneaking glances at the bewildered and gobsmacked group around the dining room table while Loki negotiated transportation and practicability of fulfilling the task of _acquiring a conifer_ with _dear J.A.R.V.I.S._ who actually tried (and succeeded!!!) to talk the young Trickster into taking his brother along.

“Our dear J.A.R.V.I.S. has arranged for some winter clothing for all of you should you wish to join us” he addressed the group of Asgardians after another bout of texting and laughing softly. His gaze landed on Aron then. “We will only have to walk short distances that should also be manageable with your injury, a driver will take us most of the way. Should you wish to stay in the tower, you are free to go to your quarters or stay here in the Penthouse. Please do not try to enter _Anthony’s_ private areas, though. DUM-E is a force to be reckoned with.”

Thor of course jumped at this possibility to spend time with his brother, and Fandral and Aron were curious enough of Midgard to join in. Bruce decided to just agree, as he would be dragged along anyway. And, actually, he wouldn’t want to miss Thor buying a Christmas tree for anything in the world.

Loki simply nodded his head, trusting on the AI in the tower to arrange everything accordingly.

“We shall meet again in half an hour then. _Anthony_ and his beloved will join us in the late afternoon and bring decorations for the tree.”

The Trickster ignored the glances that were following him as he made his way back to the elevator that would take him to his quarters to get changed and rather started making arrangements for Dinner with J.A.R.V.I.S.. There would be no time to cook given the fact that they had a tree to decorate, and four Asgardians and a Hulk to feed.

He did not see how also Bruce’s eyebrows knitted in slight worry.

Beloved?

Huh.

Well, it did make sense, why else should Tony spend every night out of the tower, somewhere else for the past 6 months? Why should he decide to convalescence in Washington DC rather than in his Malibu villa that was closer to the hospital he had been treated in? To be honest, he’d never given it that much thought, they just started having lunch together instead of Dinner, and he was arranging video chats with the bots every now and then since Tony was benched.

That Loki knew was something that surprised him, though. Loki’s first words when stepping into the tower with Thor, Fandral, and Aron in tow had been “ _Dear_ J.A.R.V.I.S., how is _Anthony_ faring?” No _hello Bruce_ , no _hey, look I brought some guests_ , no _uhm, we need help_.

The pretty obvious pining for the engineer never really stopped, and, actually, the physicist thought that it only had intensified with Tony’s almost-death. It was just the flirting and the innuendoes that had been dialed down a lot in the past months.

Oh.

Well.

So, obviously, Loki was a little smarter than him.

And great, now he was curious what kind of woman managed to permanently capture Tony Stark’s heart.

Soap opera.

Oh, how he loved his current life!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This time it's not the muse's fault, I swear (even though we did stress-crochet a carpet...).
> 
> Blame her idiot cousin, REAL LIFE. 
> 
> That's the guy who made my car act up three times in a row within a month with three different issues that at some point had even my mechanic scratch his head in wonder.
> 
> He tried to fuck around with my washing machine, too, but the washing machine won that fight.
> 
> He also made my colleagues sick with the flu, my other colleagues coming up with more orders in the past few months than I had in the last half year, and my boss realized that yes, I am also part of his group, even though I'm autonomous - and yes, it was super nice to invite also me to that retreat, and not just remembering that I'm part of HIS group when it comes to prioritizing HIS work over that of OTHER groups. Having to stuff work for five days into three because of the short notice was not so nice, though.
> 
> Anyway, I still love my car, my washing machine is a BAMF, I still love my job, and I'd rather have too much to do than sitting around twiddling my thumbs.
> 
> I'll just keep psychoanalyzing the Gibbs family and how dear Jethro might not be the victim here, but the reason why people leave him at some point. The boys will be celebrating Christmas till the end of the year if I keep going at that pace, though... well, at least then the seasons will fit again, huh?


	13. A superior man is modest in his speech, but exceeds in his actions (Confucius)

A researcher named Jim Pfaus once wondered whether the instinct to mate was stronger than the instinct to survive. So he sprayed female rats with a liquid that smelled like a dead, rotting rat and put them in cages with virgin male rats. The drive to mate was so powerful that it overcame the instinct to avoid the smell, and the rats hit it off. Actually, that’s not so strange. The strange part was what happened next.

Once the male rats had learned to associate sex with the smell of death, Faust put them in cages with different objects to play with. The male rats actually preferred to play with the object that smelled like death, as if it were soaked in something they loved. [1]

Now, while these studies, like so many others, completely neglected the other side of the deal (would the female rats simply let male rats stinking of death jump them, or would they reject them and end up getting raped because male rats put their instinct to mate above everything? Would they still shy away from objects sprayed with the odor? Would they learn to exploit their power over males that put one instinct above everything else, even the one to survive?), they revealed valuable information about the “reward center” in the brain, about the chemicals and hormones that created new synapses, new connections, that normally would attract every living being to healthy behaviors and encourage to form supposedly life-supporting habits.

Ziva David had learned a lot about conditioning other people to benefit her intentions. In the very beginning, becoming intimate with people that appalled her but wouldn’t be cooperative otherwise, had disgusted her. After a while, she did not care anymore. Sex had become very useful tool and nothing more, and now, once more, Ziva had trained her very own male rat to play with death.

She was not sure if McGee even realized what would happen should they be caught. She had asked him for help, coming up with a tearful story of missions that would go to waste because she could not warn the respective people anymore, and hinting heavily how _thankful_ Mossad, how thankful _s h e_ would be should he find a possibility for her to get her security clearance back.

Since he didn’t have the power to give it back to her, he did the next best thing – and allowed her to use his. He was even bragging how he had set up a system so he could use his access from home (or anywhere else), something that would just add to the accusations of high treason he would receive.

Ziva would be long gone by then, letting him take the blame.

Poor stupid, little rat, he should have known to put his survival above everything.

She threw an annoyed glance to her sofa where McGee was sleeping, all white skin and soft curves where she actually would have preferred tan and hard muscles. Ever since she was back from the useless training sessions she had to suffer should she want to keep her position as a liaison officer, he showed up on her doorstep like an eager puppy, computer in one hand, this time with a wrapped Christmas gift in the other, a lecherous grin on his lips.

It had somehow gotten out of hand – she never had wanted him in her flat, but the benefits outweighed her discomfort, so she simply let him in, let him lounge on her couch (contemplating to throw out the soiled comforter, but then she’d have to get a new one, so maybe she would just wash it) and wrinkled her nose a bit about the snoring person there while browsing his computer, accessing files on the NCIS server that McGee most probably also wasn’t really having access to, but hacked into them anyway, simply because he could.

Michael would’ve looked better there, on her couch, and most probably she would not mind the dirty blanket if it had been him to soil it. But he was not spending a lot of time with her, lately, being more than busy with his own assignments. He knew about McGee, she never kept that source a secret, and he never seemed to mind, after all, they both underwent the same training.

She would kick the NCIS agent out of her flat as soon as she was done snooping through the files.

Then she would take a _very_ long shower.

And then, maybe, she would call Michael…

#### ***

 

Michael Rivkin packed his field glasses away, rubbing his eyes after having to strain them to make out the content of the files Ziva was looking at on Timothy McGee’s laptop. He had bugged her flat, of course, but somehow she never was positioned in a way that the camera could catch anything, so he had to resort to some old school methods.

Names and dates once more fit with the information he had on the next few missions that were also of interest for Mossad.

So, most probably, the few failed missions from the past months were nothing more than bad luck, officials changing time tables or locations last minute. It would not be the first time this happened to one of them.

He would report this to his superiors, hoping that this mission would be done for now. Maybe he could get out of this cold weather and be on his way back to Tel Aviv before he received another needy phone call that had Eli David’s daughter demand her way into his pants.

He for sure would not miss her screeching his ears off during sex.

Agent McGee did not seem to mind going deaf (or saw it as a proof for his prowess that she was screaming like a banshee). He most probably also would not mind filling the gap Michael would leave in Ziva’s life.

Most probably, the probationary agent would be rather thankful…

#### ***

 

Bruce was following the four Asgardians once they had reached the Christmas market. This way, he could observe his personal telenovela unfold undisturbed while also ogling all the flimsy stuff people inevitably bought every Christmas.

To be honest, he lost his four friends a few times because of the latter, having zoned out in front of a booth, and he was rather glad that all of them were so tall, so it was rather easy to make them out in the crowd.

That, and the fact that Loki was wearing a Hulk-green wooly hat with a matching scarf and mittens. He just had to look out for the wandering green hat in the crowd. Thor would be following that green hat and the incredibly tight jeans the God of Mischief was wearing till the end of the world, anyway. Fandral was far busier fussing over Aron’s leg all the time, starting to annoy the poor guard who had actually snapped at the swordsman when he wanted to help him out of the limousine.

So, Aron was miffed and grumpily following Thor, and the chastised puppy Fandral was following him. He could not really lose the lot of them, anyway.

He ignored some commotion staring behind him, it was a crowded market after all, people were stepping on other people’s toes, some of them were a little tipsy already from the mulled wine, no matter what time of the day it was.

He was a bit surprised that he did not worry more. The Hulk, in a crowded space like this, it was a liability, it was insane! Weirdly enough, the other guy seemed to be quite content with ignoring the ruckus at the other end of the market, even purring a bit in the back of his head at the relaxed mindset his smaller, pinker version had adopted in the past few months.

The flimsy, sparkly, and ridiculously overprized stuff in the booths seemed to catch his attention more than anything else, Bruce even ended up buying a few things just because the other guy thought them cute. And if push came to shove, the Hulk would be out within the matter of a few seconds, knowing that there were at least three Gods there to back him up.

Fandral would bench Aron, no matter how much the guard would insist on being fully functional… and Bruce/the Hulk might have to pee himself with laughter about the confused glances the following cat-fight would receive from any bystander, the people trying to assault them included.

Whistling to himself, he decided to catch up with the others before they would end up buying too many unnecessary things, after all, Tony had already bought out that shop in Washington DC.

Maybe he should remind them that they were here for a tree?

#### ***

 

Jethro Gibbs did not remember when the last time was that he slept in.

Well… his couch was a lumpy old thing, the floor beneath the boat was hard and cold, so it was not really a wonder that he only slept the minimum needed by his body to function. It was also no wonder that he fell asleep practically everywhere when he had time to sleep. Even the back of a Navy transport plane was better than his haunted house…

He knew that he was fighting depression for a long time now, refusing to accept the fact that he was, indeed, depressed. That he had not stepped a foot into his bedroom ever since Shannon had died, had in fact remodeled a guest room to live in with his other three wives, was only one sign.

He had made his own house a shrine for his murdered family, and had forced three more people to live in it.

No wonder those marriages were doomed.

Sometimes he was asking himself what he would have done if either Diane, Stephanie, or Rebecca had put her foot down – if they had refused to live in a house where two rooms were a taboo and he refused to let them know why… He had been happy with Stephanie when they lived in Moscow… happy to leave this doomed house behind, the two ghosts in it.

At some point he decided that lying around in bed, overthinking his situation, all the relationships he had destroyed in the past wouldn’t help him so he got up and ready to face his father. He could smell breakfast, Jackson always liked to cook in the mornings, and Jethro was wondering about the fond smile that was spreading on his face.

He had cut this connection 20 years ago, most probably destroying his father’s relationship back then with his accusations of the older man sleeping around whenever possible. He did not remember if he liked his father’s breakfast when he was still a kid, because he’d always been too busy seeing him the way his mother saw him: always busy, never fulfilling her wishes, leaving her alone…

With a sigh he finished getting dressed and left the guest room, taking in the changes Jackson had made in the past two decades. The color was different.  The handrail on the stairs, too… and there were pictures…

Photos… all along the wall of the stairway, pictures of the woman he remembered accompanying his father to Shannon’s and Kelly’s funeral… children, a boy and a girl…

He was most surprised when he found his own childhood pictures intermingled with his father’s new memories and once more did not know how to feel about this change. How to reconcile the sudden knowledge that his father had continued his life without him with the fact that he had abandoned Jackson, and not the other way round? How his Dad dared to finally interrupt this vicious circle of seeking happiness and, in Jethro’s eyes, blemishing the memory of his late mother?

Had he always been this selfish and just did not want to realize that the people leaving him were doing it to protect themselves? Three failed marriages and driving away Tony DiNozzo, the man who had been loyal to the bone, seemed to prove this more than anything.

Fortifying himself for whatever he might find in the kitchen, Gibbs sighed. He was no coward. He would go in there and face the music, most probably answer some inconvenient questions, maybe drive his father away even further (if that was even possible after not talking to him for the past 20 years).

He was not really prepared for facing two people hiding behind open newspapers despite the gallery of pictures he had seen in the stairway, feeling rather foolish when he harrumphed and then hastily added a more polite “good morning”, to catch their attention.

It was Libby? Laura…? Linda…? who lowered the paper first, green eyes scrutinizing the younger Gibbs as she answered.

“Good morning. Would you like some breakfast? We kept you some on the stove.”

Gibbs eyes were glued to the table by now, laid for three people.

He wished for some serial killer right now. Someone who murdered people for a living or wanted to blow up entire buildings. He knew how to interact with these people, knew what to expect, knew how they would react, even if he didn’t understand their driving force.

Situations like this one made him wanna run, though. Run away from having to face himself, having to face his motivations, because he knew he would not like what he’d see, and sometimes he just did not know why he did what he did.

He had ended up here, because he had nowhere else to go, though. So, according to his decision that he definitely was no coward, he decided to just take things as they were coming for now.

“That would be nice…”

Jackson just briefly looked up from the Sports part.

“There’s also some coffee left. It won’t dissolve your gut, though.”

#### ***

 

Loki once more did the perfect impersonation of an art-school student strolling over the Christmas market, including the cellphone in his hand and the earplugs in his ears. J.A.R.V.I.S. had helped putting together the outfit, and even though the young God did not really understand why grown men would squeeze themselves into pants as tight as the ones he was wearing, he had to admit that he definitely could wear them together with the soft pullover the AI had chosen for him.

The scarf, hat, and mittens had been an impulse purchase in the internet simply because of the color, made already before he had had to leave for Asgard, and the way Bruce’s face had lightened up when Loki joined them in the garage wearing this ensemble was worth the confused frowns he received from his brother, Fandral, and Aron.

Loki chose to ignore them, relaxing back into the leather seats of the car, not even removing his headphones when they had reached the market and he started moving from booth to booth, picking up hilarity after hilarity, ending up buying a vitreous Iron Man because it was handmade and _Anthony_ would love it, while simultaneously continuing to check his cellphone.

Thor was following him, trying to keep his distance, and still bumping into him every once in a while because he was busy scanning the crowd for either Fandral and Aron, or Dr. Banner, and as clumsy as always, not really paying attention where he walked.

It made the younger God take a deep breath before continuing his path, trying to steer not only Thor away from unnecessary trouble. His not-brother always had had a keen sense for turmoil, even though most of the time he ended up causing it himself.

Director Coulson’s leash on General Ross was not as tight as both _Anthony_ and the leader of S.H.I.E.L.D. had hoped. This man was inconvincible, still claiming that Dr. Banner was property of the military rather than a human being, and not even the three restraining orders the SI legal department or the S.H.I.E.L.D. legal department had gained on both Banner’s and the Hulk’s behalf could stop him from trying to apprehend the physicist.

No, Ross still was sprouting nonsense about the Hulk being a mindless, violent creature whose only intention was to kill and destroy to everybody who wanted to hear it. And every other person who didn’t give a damn, too.

It was _Anthony_ who had started destroying this picture of the green berserk by leaking pictures and videos taken during the battle of New York, where the Hulk was protecting humans, and only _smashing_ the Chitauri (and Loki, in the end, but since that was what was needed to break the mind control on the young God, Loki was not the slightest bit resentful).

The video of the Hulk saving Iron Man was one of the most popular ones. Only topped by the one where the Hulk of all mutants helped _Anthony_ with some repairs on the arc reactor fueling Stark tower. While Banner would have been the number one choice with the physics part, Stark had needed some muscles… and ended up giving orders to his _mean green smashing machine_ in a way that very soon reminded everybody living in the tower of the way he was talking to DUM-E and U.

And while the engineer gave a few people heart attack after heart attack (the _lovely_ Miss Potts claimed to have aged at least five years after finding out how her friend had removed all the debris from the reactor room so fast), said engineer ended the entire ordeal with a: “Great work buddy, I knew you were the man! Give us a hug!”

The rest was history. The Hulk carefully had approached the inventor after staring at him for quite a while, probably asking himself if the other man really wanted a hug. They had cuddled for a while, _Anthony_ had grinned like a mad man… and the Hulk had smiled.

The video soon had overtaken most cat videos concerning the amount of clicks, even though the commenters were not really sure if the correct reaction was “Aaawwww, cute!!!” or “Dear Lord, is he crazy?!”

Stark just continued demanding cuddles when the Hulk was out to play. It proved to be an idiot-proof method to calm him down, no matter what had aggravated him, and _Tin Man_ soon had turned into _Tony_ , making _Anthony_ brag about the fact that he was the only person whose given name was used by the Hulk.

The world had learned that the Hulk was more than just a monster.

Ross did not seem able to change his opinion, and would have to learn the hard way.

“How close, J.A.R.V.I.S.?” the Trickster murmured into the speaker of his headset, aware of the fact that Thor was close enough to witness that something was going on, that Loki was not simply taking pictures with his phone. The artificial intelligence had asked for his help, not trusting S.H.I.E.L.D. agents to handle the situation with the discretion it needed.

And his brother, the oaf, might ruin the mission if he jumped to his own conclusions and, in the end, really might release the Hulk in a place like this. It was risky enough, but Ross was slippery as a slug when he wanted to be. So he actively sought the Thundergod’s glance, locking his eyes with him before putting his forefinger to his lips.

“ _Two more yards”,_ J.A.R.V.I.S. responded in the earpiece, and Thor’s eyes were following the younger God’s as he looked down again, only to see the map on the screen.

“ _One yard_ ”, the artificial intelligence counted in his ear as the Thunderer crept closer.

“ _Two feet”_ , J.A.R.V.I.S. continued, and now also Thor could make out a red dot that was approaching a certain green perimeter.

“ _One foot.”_

“Let him enter the perimeter, so he cannot deny breaking the restraining order, but stop him before Banner notices”, Loki murmured, eyes widening slightly as two more dots appeared.

“ _Two more men have joined General Ross. I advise apprehending them now!”_ J.A.R.V.I.S.’s voice sounded urgent now, and Director Coulson was giving orders in the background. Loki glanced at the blonde God again who was still watching him confusedly, before both of them turned around rather abruptly, watching out for the source of some shouting.

Fandral and Aron had done the same, the four Asgardians only briefly checking out the brawl in the background where at least S.H.I.E.L.D. agents were apprehending General Ross and his lackeys. All of them instantly also were watching out for one person who had been following them, idling about to look at some booths, making sure he was fine.

Bruce simply waved at them as he caught up, smiling as he was greeted with open arms, pointing out that they came here to buy a tree and not even more decoration.

#### ***

 

Dino left the cockpit with a grin. As much as he hated boats and the way they were rocking on the waves, as much as he abhorred sitting in the back of a Navy freight transport machine, watching Gibbs sleep while everybody else was trying to keep their stomachs were they belonged, namely inside their bodies, he loved sitting in the cockpit of a Gulfstream, and the Stark Industries company jet was just this – a Gulfstream.

The pilot had indulged him for a while, most probably thinking that if they were allowed to open one of the windows the rather enthusiastic agent would have stuck out his head (and his tongue) like one of these dogs on the passenger side of a car.

T had just laughed as his better half fidgeted with his seatbelt as soon as the sign to stay buckled up went off and decided to just get comfy on the couch, most probably preparing for a short nap.

When he came back into the passenger space, Dino found him in the same position as when he had left, though with a deep frown on his face and his cell phone in his hands, hectically typing away.

“Maybe next time I can take over for a bit, make a curve or something? Hey, you have a pilot’s license, right? Otherwise you wouldn’t be allowed to pilot your own Quinjets, I guess… think I could get one, too?” he pretended to not realize T’s dark mood as he moved closer to the comfortable passenger seats. He waited for his boyfriend to look up, aiming to distract him from whatever at SI or the Avengers had him frowning. He was still supposed to recover, to rest, to not fucking deal with them. That was Pepper’s and Coulson’s job, for Pete’s sake!

“The pilot said we’ll land in about 30 minutes, and somehow the guy was glad that I left the cockpit again.”

Dark brown eyes only briefly flitted to him before he continued typing away on his phone, worrying Dino even more.

“T? Is everything ok? Did something happen?!” He was sitting down next to his boyfriend, trying to catch a glimpse of the screen to see if he was coordinating his suits to counter an attack together with J.A.R.V.I.S., or if he’d just received some bad news from SI, like back then when the CEO of another company had somehow misplaced his brain, and his penis thought it was a good idea to grope Pepper.

To be honest, that idiot was lucky that he tried to feel up _before-Extremis_ Pepper. He’d _only_ lost his job and his credibility (and had Tony Stark and J.A.R.V.I.S. breathing down his neck) and gained a limp from a stiletto in his foot instead of ending up as a grilled chicken.

Anyway, the frown T was wearing now matched his expression back then, so Dino immediately started fearing the worst.

The inventor just sighed deeply.

“Phil used Bruce as a bait to catch Ross and asked J.A.R.V.I.S. for help. J.A.R.V.I.S. asked Loki for help, Thor thinks it was Loki’s idea, Loki now isn’t talking to either Thor or J.A.R.V.I.S., and I think my AI is heartbroken because of that. In case I ever complain how boring we sometimes are, please remind me of this situation. I have no clue what to do with this bunch of super-powered teenagers!”

Scooting up to Dino, T rested his head against the agent’s shoulder, snuggling up to him.

“Does J.A.R.V.I.S. even know that he has a crush on Loki?” the taller man asked as he got comfortable next to his significant other, his fingers unerringly finding his way to the other man’s hair. Yeah, he knew that J.A.R.V.I.S. was self-aware and sentient, but he had no idea how evolved the AI was. He joked all the time about J being T’s son, yet did not know if he was anthropomorphizing the computer program in a way that didn’t fit J.A.R.V.I.S..

“He’s still trying to reconcile Loki and Thor, I’m not really sure if he’s aware of his own crush or tries to hook them up with each other… Did you know you had your first crush when you had your first crush?” T answered, getting an amused snort as answer.

“I had a best friend who pointed out whenever possible that Cindy Carter and I were sitting in a tree in third grade”, Dino smiled, finding his favored spot on T’s temple again to brush his lips over it.

“She had the best sweets. You could’ve taken one for the team and at least have talked to her”, Stark mused and Dino cringed at one particular memory he had concerning Cindy Carter.

“She was giving her dog open mouthed kisses whenever her parents visited, so no, thank you.”

The engineer crinkled his nose at that, making the agent laugh.

“You glad now that I didn’t follow that crush?”

T just turned his head up a bit, facing Dino, pursing his lips. “I’m the only one you’re allowed to give open mouthed kisses. Actually, I demand some now.”

Dino was happy to oblige, delivering a tiny peck that had T protest loudly about the cheap quality kisses he was receiving, both of them necking each other until the pilot announced that they were starting to descend.

T was nibbling one last time at Dino’s lower lip, both of their faces flushed from their recent make out session, before sitting up a bit.

“To be continued later?” Stark asked, leering a bit, and receiving another peck on his nose before DiNozzo replied.

“We first need to deal with the bunch of teenagers in our house, otherwise it’ll be a pout-fest when we’re decorating the tree.”

“Man, being a parent is hard. Can’t we just ignore the drama und decorate the tree with Bruce, and DUM-E and U? The bots are babies, and will be over the moon once I’m back at the tower. How do I even give J.A.R.V.I.S. the birds and bees talk?!? He can be neither bird, nor bee!” Well... he could, but that would involve some tinkering T was not sure he wanted to be part of.

Dino just smirked. “Don’t forget the shovel talk you have to give Loki should he decide to go after your virgin AI.” His grin just widened when T looked even more horrified.

“Shut up! Oh, good God, I will end up as a smear on the wall if Thor figures out any of this shit. I bet he’ll defend his baby-brother’s virtue.”

“And you won’t defend J.A.R.V.I.S.’s virtue? Did the _virgin AI_ somehow not make it to that big brain of yours? Our poor, innocent baby boy, preyed by a millennia old Norse God! He doesn’t stand a chance”, Dino continued mocking.

“J bought half of the content of our toy drawer, Sweetheart… I don’t think he needs his virtue defended, but rather some instructions how to negotiate his kinks…”, T deadpanned, smiling sweetly as Dino tried, but failed to come up with a response.

After a few moments, the agent huffed.

“It’s gonna be some interesting holidays, huh?”

 

[1] Pfaus, J.G., T.E. Kippin, and S. Centeno, _Conditioning and sexual behavior: a review._ Horm Behav, 2001. **40** (2): p. 291-32

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone.
> 
> You know the deal. Real life and stuff.
> 
> I've also seen Infinity War, Starlord has made it to the top of my shitlist of dumbest superheroes (no longer) alive, and I've decided to ignore that plot for... well, most probably, for forever. I'm good at that, I'm still ignoring season 7 of the Gilmore Girls!
> 
> I have noooooo clue at all what will happen to the CyberFrost thing... but I think we'll figure out more in the next chapters. I think I might have fun with that pairing :)
> 
> Cheerio!!!


	14. At his best, man is the noblest of all animals; separated from law and justice, he is the worst (Aristotle)

Loki would have preferred to follow Dr. Banner. Thor, however, was faster and stronger, and since the younger of the two Gods did not want to cause another scene that might have drawn the attention of the bystanders to them, he simply stopped in front of the stall with the Christmas tree decorations.

Sky blue eyes were locking on emerald green, worry written all over the Thundergod’s face.

“Loki…?”

“Thor, please, not now”, Loki pleaded, once more trying to pass the Ås, but Thor did not loosen his grip in the slightest.

“Did you use Dr. Banner as bait to…?” the Thunderer asked and realized the same second that this was the worst thing he could have said. A neutral mask slid over Loki’s face, and this time he yanked his arm out of Thor’s hold.

“I do not have to explain myself to you!” the younger God hissed, pushing away the hand that tried reaching for him again. In a few seconds he had squeezed through the crowd, putting enough distance between Thor and himself to not have to see the accusatory glance anymore. The disappointment in his brother’s voice, the assumptions about what was going on before he even knew the entire story, it stung. It reminded Loki of all those times before his fall, of all the time he spent in the palace, in his rooms, separating himself from the crown prince and his friends after once more being belittled, accused of cheating, or simply being bullied.

“Why did I listen to you?” he whispered into his speaker, clutching the phone and shoving it into his coat pocket. Why had he let J.A.R.V.I.S. talk him into taking the big oaf along? Why… why would J.A.R.V.I.S. want… why would he need Thor to come along?

In the light of the recent events it made sense to bring the Thundergod… having as much backup as possible when apprehending General Ross to not only have him off Bruce’s back. It was the reasonable thing to do, and J.A.R.V.I.S. was a reasonable being, it was not his fault that Thor was accusing Loki of using a friend to bait General Ross

The man was fully supporting the anti-mutant fraction in the country, not shying away from kidnapping people whose only crime was to carry a mutation that in most cases had not even manifested yet, locking them away, and torturing them, using their attempts to escape, their use of their abilities as excuse to detain them… or worse.

So yes, Dr. Banner had been used.

But not by Loki.

Director Coulson had come up with this plan over the past months, using tiny breaches of the restraining order to add more aggravating stipulations that would make it easier to connect not only the General of the armed forces, but also the private person Thaddeus Ross to the crimes committed against civilians that were based on nothing else than racism.

J.A.R.V.I.S. had been rather insistent taking Thor and the other Æsir along, had only revealed in the limousine what would be happening to Loki. Now that he replayed the one-sided conversation in his mind, J.A.R.V.I.S. whispering to him in his headphones, he could not help but wonder how much the AI had been involved in planning this entire charade beforehand.

J.A.R.V.I.S. could be sneaky. He was acting behind their backs sometimes, but… but he was doing things like… like switching _Anthony_ to decaf after 5 pm, or… or ordering clothes that would fit Dr. Banner instead of being a few numbers to big or made of stretchy material… or sending DUM-E with food when they had spent most of the day in the lab not even thinking about eating, only to have the clumsy thing drop the plate when all of them had realized that they were indeed hungry… and then he would help cajole Dr. Banner into cooking.

The entire plan for this operation had S.H.I.E.L.D. written all over it, but not J.A.R.V.I.S.

But…

“ _I am sure that once I explain our reasons to Mr. Odinson, he will understand our incitement… Director Coulson asked for my help, and I asked for yours, Master Loki. This is on the director. And on me! Never on you.”_ The phone was vibrating slightly in his grip as the AI tried to get him to answer.

Loki was not so sure of that. Up to now, somebody always found a way to blame everything on him. And in a way, he was also guilty, he had played his role, keeping Banner in the dark.

“ _Master Loki…”_

J.A.R.V.I.S. sounded apologetic, downright desperate even. It had been his idea to take the Thunderer along, pointing out that Thor would defend Banner and their other guests from Ross without even knowing who that guy was. By then they had been sitting in the car and could not really turn back, right?

Of course Loki had hoped that things would go the way they had today. Banner had not noticed anything, nobody was hurt, Ross was in custody, and by the way his phone was vibrating, he was being updated on the ongoing process of a search warrant being executed at the General’s offices and home.

Thor was not supposed to be involved as more than an emergency backup. He was not supposed to know that anything was going on at all.

And yet, here he was, fleeing from the blonde God, catching up as fast as possible with the other three of their merry group, joining them with a fake smile and fake enthusiasm, watching Fandral demand the biggest tree for sale on the market.

He tried to ignore the thoughtful glances, the obvious disappointment, the suspiciousness that radiated from Thor as the Thunderer also joined their negotiations, and Bruce at some point cracked enough jokes about guys on Earth comparing their dicks, and not their trees, to make even Fandral blush.

J.A.R.V.I.S. made another attempt to get his attention.

“ _Please, Master Loki…”_

The dark haired God took his headset out of his ear, stuffing it into his coat pocket together with his phone, still holding the device tightly as it vibrated a few more times.

If it was important, somebody would call. If necessary, the AI would find a way.

After all, J.A.R.V.I.S. always found a way.

#### ***

 

After this seemingly endless morning and early afternoon, Phil Coulson felt a bit like celebrating. Not only had they finally apprehended Thaddeus Ross. No, they had also managed to locate the not so secret secret base the man had been operating from, had arrested some more people, and, cherry on the cake, had a very, _very_ pissed Elisabeth “Betty” Ross in their custody. Ross’ daughter had demanded an army of lawyers, and a bunch of journalists to rip her father a new one for kidnapping her and keeping her a prisoner, most probably intending to use her as a bait to lure out the Hulk.

The new director of S.H.I.E.L.D. tried not to preen too much in front of his co-workers, after all, they were doing more or less the same with Banner. Well, with the slight difference that no-one would make it past Tony Stark and Iron Man should they try to do so openly. He maybe even felt a little guilty for misguiding the man about Ross’ whereabouts and intentions, but, well, the end justified the means.

Initially, he had not even planned involving Stark or the computer. J.A.R.V.I.S. was a stand-in for Stark as Iron Man, the machine was steering the armor well enough to be useful in battle now that Stark was benched. The agency had used some fake facebook and twitter accounts to leak where part of the Avengers were headed, some of his agents trying to outdo each other who could write the more hilarious version of ”OMG I just saw Thor, and isn’t that that cutie Banner with him???”

What he had not calculated in was that Ross might overdo it concerning the people he brought to once more catch the Hulk. Obviously, he had learned nothing out of the green berserker smashing whatever artillery he brought along, and trying it with a bunch of (admittedly highly trained) soldiers seemed more desperate than well thought through.

Coulson had also not thought about the satellite they had chosen to watch the entire ordeal being a little harder to hack than anticipated. Stupid Russians and their counter-intelligence. So he had called Stark’s AI, told it about Ross being in New York, that they had been spotted, and that the General had just waited for this occasion to catch Banner.

He might have added some _Imagine what could happen_ then, not really giving J.A.R.V.I.S. a choice to confer with anybody before being dragged into this special op. _Imagine what might happen to the civilians there. Imagine what will happen to Dr. Banner. Imagine what could happen to all the alien inhabitants of the tower if Ross is not stopped. Imagine how this might fall back on Stark, not able to keep his charges safe_.

J.A.R.V.I.S. was not just any computer, but it was predictable, and if you knew which buttons you had to push, it was just as easy to manipulate the machine as it was to manipulate a real person. Stark was its Achilles heel, J.A.R.V.I.S. would do anything to keep its creator safe.

He did not even wonder that the AI was rather quick to cut their connection as soon as they had Ross. Coulson had learned through other channels that the Asgardians were happily back at the tower with the biggest tree they could find on the market. Phil would demand surveillance later, Stark most probably would refuse to give it to them, and he’d have to get creative again to get the man’s help, but…

But also there, he had the perfect means to reach his goals.

Pepper, after all, always managed to make Stark see reason.

And that was just one more reason for him to love her.

Phil Coulson maybe even whistled a little when leaving his office a little earlier than most other days. The main part of the op was accomplished, he had people to take care of the rest. Tomorrow, he would jump into the heap of paperwork that was awaiting him. Tomorrow he would take care of all the other skeletons in Ross’ closet.

Today, however, he’d definitely earned a reward…

#### ***

 

The reunion with the bots turned out to be a little more emotional than either Tony had expected. T had not planned on ending up as a sobbing mess who was hugging DUM-E and U as if his life depended on it. Dino stood behind him, not really knowing how to react to this development, not that T could’ve cared less at that moment.

There had been video calls, the bots were fine, according to J.A.R.V.I.S. they were more than relieved that their creator was still alive and over the moon because of the impromptu visit.

T definitely had not planned on losing it after the first enthusiastic beep DUM-E made when he waltzed into his workshop, quipping “Daddy’s home, did you miss me?”

The plan had been to arrive at the tower after supervising that their _slightly_ murderous conifer and the ginormous heap of decorations were safely packaged into the transporter waiting at the airport.

The next point on the to do list had been dealing with the superpowered teenagers and a, by now, apparently pouting artificial intelligence who had also complained to Mommy. Pepper had called them when they were still in the plane, asking what the hell had happened that J.A.R.V.I.S. was asking for advice how to make his lapse of judgement of the situation up to Loki.

She did not question _why_ the AI called her. His creator’s track record concerning communicative skills to keep an relationship going was not that stellar. She was just not so sure if she was the right person to ask stuff like this, considering _her_ track record.

By the time T and the _lovely_ Miss Potts were done discussing the entire snafu as far as they could, because T officially was still benched and had (also officially) no access to the reports, Dino was pretty sure that poor Phil would have to deal with the Goddess of Wrath descending upon him once he left the office this day.

When they finally entered the limousine, T had gone quiet, clutching his phone, his jaw working as he ground his teeth, and Dino was at a loss how to lighten up this entire situation.

Coulson had used J.A.R.V.I.S.’s protectiveness against him, and while nobody had been physically hurt, there were mental scars to heal. They would have to sort this out once they were at the tower, because it was only fair to not only correct the view Thor had on Loki’s role in the entire ordeal, but also Banner would have to be made aware about his involvement.

Yay. Merry Christmas.

That was actually not what he had planned to do over the holidays.

At some point Stark sighed and leaned back against the leather seat, hands folded in his lap.

“I don’t even know why I’m surprised. The guy’s been working with Fury for so long, for S.H.I.E.L.D. I’ve always been the capricious, unpredictable, narcissistic diva who would deny any request on principle.”

Worry shone in those warm, brown eyes as the engineer turned to Dino, fingers still playing with the cellphone in his lap.

“They never asked for anything. They always just assumed I would say no, they only ever assumed that I would not be accessible for arguments and then started manipulating their way to getting what they wanted.”

The agent scooted a little closer, knowing well enough how his best friend felt in the moment, at least about the feeling of being used by others while the assumptions about his personality could not have been more false. As soon as their shoulders touched, T rested his head against Dino, having to wait only a few seconds until warm lips touched his temple again.

“You know that Pepper is on the warpath now. Not so sure if Coulson ever realized that she is the one who raised J.A.R.V.I.S. together with you, and he hurt her baby.”

Caressing those indomitable brown locks, Dino closed his eyes, leaning into T.

The other man sighed.

“I… Peps already broke it off over the Extremis debacle. If push comes to shove she always puts me above everything in her life. I want her to be happy, and not end her relationship because…”

“..because Phil is a manipulative bastard who used J.A.R.V.I.S. and sure as hell also would also use her against you if he ever got the chance? That’s what you wanted to say, right?”

Dino got no answer, just another sigh. So he answered his own question.

“You always tried to keep anyone of S.H.I.E.L.D. out of your life, Honey, because you knew they would try to manipulate you even if they were close enough to be considered friends. You tolerated Phil because he _was_ involved with Pepper, and believe me, he won’t walk away from this unscathed. Pepper loves you, in this strange little sister / everything but incestuous relationship / CEO with benefits / one of the few people you trust 100% kind of way you two have going on. You are family, and you dump manipulative bastards over something like that.”

T snorted at that. “Please don’t talk about her in the little sister kind of way. The way I think about her legs alone would be _highly_ inappropriate…”

Dino smiled. “Only her legs?”

He was answered with a swat to his chest, and a T who was cheering up a bit. “You’ve seen, them, right? And don’t tell Peps I said that, because those legs come equipped with deadly stilettos even on a good day.”

“You gifted most of those stilettos to her”; Dino pointed out, only to have T grin at him.

“Because I happen to like her legs.” And it was a good way to console her when he (according to her) had fucked up something like… missing a board meeting, or… creating a prototype for a tablet computer when she’d ordered a new cell phone, and he’d gone big because he could…

“Better than mine?!” Dino fake-pouted a little, almost losing his sincere _My boyfriend likes other legs better than mine_ attire when Happy snorted in the front seat.

“Do you also want the new Louboutin satin collection? She might get cranky if the two of you have the same gift under the tree, though. And I actually found something I think you might appreciate more than 4 inch heels in which you know you cannot walk.” The tiny wrinkles around T’s eyes made an appearance, the smile finally reaching those warm brown orbs again.

Dino wanted those wrinkles back, and while every other time he would’ve found some hilarious way to cheer up the mood, this time he approached his boyfriend, sat down on the floor right next to him, and hugged what was not occupied by DUM-E and U.

“I want to start looking for a house”, T’s rough voice startled him at some point, actually, Dino was not quite sure if he’d dozed off for a while. His answer was a very eloquent “huh?”

The engineer turned around as far as DUM-E and U’s clutch around him permitted, clearing his throat and wiping a hand over his face, wiping away some of the tears that had wet his cheeks.

“I… left them here alone. Didn’t realize how much I missed them.” Yes, DUM-E’s arm was a bit uncomfortable as a pillow, and U had rolled on his sweater only an inch away from his thigh so even if he wanted to, he could not get up from the floor. He’d not let go for anything in the world, in the moment, though. And his bots seemed to have the same idea.

“J.A.R.V.I.S. can be with us whenever he wants… I miss DUM-E helping when I’m tinkering around, and I miss U’s smoothies…” With a sigh T let his forehead rest against DUM-E’s arm.

“I want my workshop in the basement and not 250 miles away…” He wanted his kids… his bots close by, and not in another town, having to depend on what their little brother told them and infrequent video calls with uncle Bruce.

All Dino did was place another peck against his temple.

“We’ll stay here until at least New Year’s Day. I’ll make the _lovely_ Miss Potts look the other way when you sneak into your lab”, the agent promised, nuzzling at the other man. They would have to talk about this topic anyway. As much as finding a house would speed up things, remodeling everything would take a lot of time and energy.

Planning everything from scratch, not having to compromise – T could afford it, so why not build their dream house?

Or, why not use one that he already owned? That had already been perfected to fit his needs? Like, maybe, that big-ass tower in the middle of New York?

This discussion would give him a platform to address his not so recent thoughts about leaving NCIS. While, in general, things had become better, with Vance _and_ Gibbs backing him, with people like Dorneget and Jimmy and Delores who made being in the office bearable - the secrecy, the mind games to keep Ziva off track yet still in the loop to use her for planting false information... that was not what he signed up for. Investigating crimes, going up against the occasional terrorist, sure. But he was no spy, he never wanted to be one, no matter how much he loved James Bond movies.

He could be a cop anywhere.

Another brush of his lips against T’s temple made the engineer sigh.

“Did you inform the others that we arrived, J.A.R.V.I.S.? I want to get this sorted out as soon as possible, Ross won’t destroy our family Christmas.”

_“I have informed all recent inhabitants of the tower. They are awaiting your invitation to the Penthouse. The tree has been put up in the living room. Miss Potts called to ensure we will wait with decorating it until she has arrived.”_

J.A.R.V.I.S. still sounded dejected, if he had a body, he most probably would sit in a corner, hugging his knees, and trying to figure out when exactly everything went to shit, and this was one of the few occasions when T regretted not building him one – he sure as hell also wanted to hug his third kid.

Also Dino sighed.

“Let’s deal with the teenagers?”

T did not really move his head away from DUM-E’s arm.

“Let’s deal with the teenagers.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, people *sheathes her sword*...  
> Yeah, well, my aim sucks (even in video games), I'm by no means a sniper, so I had to go hack and slay to rescue the muse from the dragon Real Life turned into.  
> Not that I have anything against dragons, but when they occupy my every wake moment AND kidnap the muse, well, a girl's bound to jump on her steed and go berserk at some point, right?  
> Anyway, the muse has been rescued... and has been working overtime on everything BUT my two favorite boys *cries*.  
> We craft lovely polymer clay pineapples, though. :D
> 
> The translation for this epic would be:  
> The past months were filled to the brim with work, and I didn't feel like writing.  
> Got myself a new car, and yet another hobby.  
> Enjoy the chapter, I hope I can squeeze out at least one more during my vacation... I still need to figure out what to do with Gibbs and his Dad now that I have them together in a room...  
> If I keep going at this pace, I might finish the Christmas scenes on Christmas...
> 
> Cheerio, everyone!  
> *jumps on her trusty steed and galopps into the sunset*


End file.
